


The Redemption of Kylo Ren

by nixcomix



Series: The Rise of Ben Solo [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Dark Rey (Star Wars), Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fix-It, Force Bond (Star Wars), Frenemies, Healing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kylo Ren Redemption, Love/Hate, Masturbation, Not Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Recovery, Redemption, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Star Wars: The Rise of Kylo Ren Spoilers, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Kylo Ren, Virgin Rey (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 154,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24246223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nixcomix/pseuds/nixcomix
Summary: Exegol.Cold. Dark. Numbing.The Empire, the First Order, the Final Order, and even the Resistance… decimated. The Galaxy is saved from what he had helped build. Saved from his ‘life’s work’. The war is over.But Rey is gone.And he can’t save her...
Relationships: Finn & Ben Solo, Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: The Rise of Ben Solo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922341
Comments: 837
Kudos: 505





	1. Exegol

  
  


Art by [Verauko](https://www.deviantart.com/verauko) (Approved for use~) 

_________________

Exegol.

Cold. Dark. Numbing.

The Empire, the First Order, the Final Order, and even the Resistance… decimated. The Galaxy is saved from what he had helped build. Saved from his ‘life’s work’. The war is over.

But Rey is gone. 

And he can’t save her.

He tries. How desperately he tries. He searches that newly stoked fire of the Light inside him. He pushes his memory back towards the Jedi Temple of his youth... to no avail.

He squeezes his eyes more firmly shut and remembers Rey’s hand on him as his body knit back together under her palm. Sweat pours; his wounds ache. All he feels is the painful echoes of bruises and blood and bone. Falling back on habit, he gathers that pain to flood him with power... but, it’s the wrong kind.

It’s the wrong kind.

He stares at her lifeless body, wallowing in his own misery, before the realization dawns on him that _she's not becoming one with the Force_. Time ticks by as he watches, waiting for her to melt into the air. Minutes? Hours? Days? Time has no meaning to him in this place. Still, her body remains.

_Why?_

All around them is a cavernous emptiness. The void yawns as the Exegol walls fade back into the blue shade of night. There is almost no sound. It’s as if they exist in a bubble of nothing. The muted atmosphere reminds him of when the bond would open, sucking in all the noise - until he couldn’t hear anything else. Just her.

He looks around wide-eyed, his face frantic and pleading. He flings out his senses but feels nothing. No one is coming. 

No one ever comes. 

His mind is racing now, as he gently closes her open eyes. He’s not a praying man. Even steeped in the Dark Side, he’d never been one for religious zealotry. Still, he silently questions. He asks. He reasons. He demands. Unanswered, he begins to beg the Force to take her. To let her ascend as the Last Jedi. To be with the Masters of old. To be with his… his mother. 

His mother... 

“Ben.” Not a question. A familiar voice. A damning voice. 

He feels like spitting, _‘That’s not my name!’_ But – isn’t it? Rey did not save Kylo Ren’s life. She saved Ben Solo. Only ever Ben Solo. 

His father’s ghost – or perhaps, only a memory – did not come to Kylo Ren. It came for Ben Solo. 

Still, one moment - one day - one decision - one act of ‘heroism’ does not change his history. Cowed in his despair, he knows that there’s only _one person_ he wants to utter that dead name. 

__

__

And it is not Luke Skywalker. 

The dispatched Jedi appears behind him silently and a blueish light diffuses around the already-cold scenery. A not-quite-Ben-Solo, yet not-quite-Kylo-Ren refuses to turn his head. He merely tenses so rigidly that his muscle could crack stone. 

As if the universe had heard his questions, gently – oh so gently – Luke intones, “The Jedi Masters have decided to stop her from passing into the Force.” 

Kylo freezes, horrified, eyes still fixed on her as his mind reels. How could they possibly do such a thing? _Why_ would they do such a thing? She’d just saved the galaxy from the Final Order; she'd just saved _everything_. The Jedi had used her body as if it were merely a vessel for their precious Light, and now… this? 

He veins flood with vitriol. Finally connecting his slitted eyes to the last Skywalker’s, he clasps Rey to his chest, rocking absently. 

His voice drips with disdain. He bares his teeth, tilting his head back in a challenge, glaring up at the specter before him. “The Jedi _used_ her. The _Jedi_ talk about ‘Balance in the Force’... and that’s exactly what she was. You're all blind. She channeled the Light _and_ the Dark side. Capable of...” he falters with a weak gesture. 

His heart is bleeding, but his voice is calm, belying his rage. “You and your Masters, in your search for ‘balance’, poured in more Light than _anyone’s_ soul could possibly bear. You _killed_ her. The 'precious' last of you.” His voice lowers to a viciously whispered hiss, “And was that not enough? Even now… what have you done? Now, she’s cursed! Now, she’s… _lost_...” 

He doesn’t hear his voice crack on the last word. 

Luke reflects on the broken man before him, kneeling on the floor, holding onto the death of his possible-future. In another life - in another thread of time - what would have been this man’s fate? 

“Even in your ‘redemption’, Ben, you’re still too Dark to heal with the Light.” 

Kylo cringes to hear what he already knows. Any truth coming from this man, no matter how small, is like poison. 

As if he didn’t notice, he merely continues, “And, you’re right about Balance. We see it now. We were – blind, as you say. And, we all agree that the Jedi order must _end_...” 

At this, Kylo’s eyebrows knit. 

“What the Force requires is, indeed, Balance. Dark and Light... together. She has that." Luke pauses, folding his hands in front of him. "And so do you.

"You were the first to realize how special the relationship between you both was. Before the Masters did. Before Palpatine did. Always too smart for your own good, Ben." He pauses before continuing with a smug look on his face. "Perhaps the Holocrons you’ve been so desperately collecting this past year have helped you better understand your _bond_. After all, you and she are not the first Dyad in the history of the Force.” He gets that familiar sardonic look in his eyes. Unbefitting of a man passed into the ether. 

“Two bodies, one soul in the Force. Dark and Light. A Balance. A bond like yours can't be severed so easily. Even in death.” Luke’s smile is wistful, hands now clasped behind his back as he looks at the ground, beginning to pace around his once-nephew. As if they were still family. As if he were still his _Master_. Kylo’s scowl grows deeper at the level of condescension still dripping from this man. This paramour of the Jedi. 

“The Cosmic Force, itself, has decided to give you a chance at TRUE redemption, _Kylo Ren_.” Skywalker’s intonation at his chosen name turning to mockery. He pauses a beat, standing straight and looking Kylo in the eyes with a deep sobriety and also a glimmer of… hope? Hope was a look Kylo hasn’t seen in a long time. Not since an elevator ride into the dark maw of his Master’s throne room. 

“And... it’s giving you a chance to save Rey.” 

Any possible words die on Kylo’s tongue. Those eyes, those expressive and mournful eyes shine out to the apparition before him. 

“Rey is in a ‘stasis’, of sorts.” He continues his pacing, “Protected and preserved by the Force until the day ‘Ben Solo’ finds enough Light within himself to finally heal her. 

“She’ll stay like that until you _can_ – or until you _die_.” 

Death. For both of them. 

With that, there must be nothing else to say. What else could be said, really? That wistful smirk plays on the old man’s face once more as he deadpans his now-tagline, “See you ‘round, kid.” 

Luke fades, leaving Kylo’s mind stuttering. All anger has drained. In its place, he is drowning in an utter sense of _hopelessness_. The Dark Side has always called him. _Always_. This fool’s errand is fated to fail. It’s not just that she will die… it’s that she will _linger_. For what’s left of his life, she will be frozen in time within this cold, lifeless body. 

He does not weep. His eyes swim – but he can’t allow even the solace that would come with the shedding of tears. 

He realizes that he never gets to mourn anything. 

Not his family’s failure. Their abandonment. _That_ merely gave birth to his hardened heart, a deeper chasm of hidden loneliness, and his first mask. The Jedi-mask. 

Not Luke’s betrayal. _That_ was consumed by panic, fear and desperation. 

Not his father. _No_ , never that. That was buried deep under his shame. Boxed away, to keep Kylo Ren from breaking. 

Not even Snoke, the creature in his mind; a part of Kylo as early as his first memories. Any remorse over murdering his true Master was shoved under the feelings that Snoke inspired - feelings of being used, abused, coerced, gaslighted and manipulated. That remorse was buried by the glory of his right of succession. His destiny. Fulfilling his desire for power. 

But not the desire for… something else. Something softer. Some connection. Something like hope. 

Rejected again, as they all reject him, he buried _that_ feeling in his fury. A wrath like he’s never felt before. He wanted to let the world - all worlds - BURN. 

But right now, in this cold empty cave where the war’s aftermath rains down like fire in the sky, he will allow himself to mourn. To wrap himself in the despair. In the pain. In the suffering. Skywalker was right. How can he heal with the Light when he’s still too steeped in Darkness? They had finally let it all die. They killed it – because they had to. The Jedi, the Sith. 

Ironic that he’d gotten what he wanted, in the end. 

If his connection with Rey is tying her to this plane, a corpse with no future, then perhaps he should consider the death would release her. His own. 

He knows he will not move on into the Force, like Skywalker. Like he hopes his mother had. But that would be fitting. He’s never belonged with them, anyway. He was always, “other”. 

Perhaps he'll spend eternity in silence. In that way, maybe he would finally know peace. 

Or perhaps he'll spend eternity haunted by the ghost of the Pilot-Hero-Scoundrel that sired him. The man he’d secretly wished to become, once upon a time. That would be justice. That would be what he deserves. 

Still, no tears have fallen as Kylo Ren debates his final act. He wraps himself around her. Cocooning her cold body with his warmth. Closer to her now than he’d been when their fingers caressed across the galaxy. 

Closer than he’d even been as he hunted – no - _protected_ her. Pleaded with her. 

Closer than they’d been when they fought with or against each other. In the frigid snow, in a room of red soldiers and fire, across the bond, across a relic in a raging sea. 

Even closer than when she saved his life… 

Another realization hits him. Every situation, every choice, every deed of his was colored by the voices in his head. Snoke, Vader, Palpatine. All the same creature, whispering and warping. Forever twisting his reality, grooming him and leading him to this Dark Place. Perhaps this… all this… is fate. Perhaps there is no such thing as free will. 

The only thing he’d wanted for himself in his adult life was her. And even that was manipulated by Snoke… No; Palpatine. 

Or was it? Capitalized on, absolutely… but, no. Snoke did not create the bond. Their connection was forged before Snoke knew she existed. When she was just The Girl. The Scavenger. As soon as he saw her in the woods of Takodana, there was… something. Enough to make him approach her even though she’d wanted to kill him. Enough to stay his hand. Enough to make him abandon the droid and take her instead. Enough to make him willingly _touch_ someone for reasons other than violence, in order to lift her in his arms. 

In the interrogation room, he didn’t hurt her like he had others. Like the pilot. He didn’t want to. He was content to watch. To listen. To see inside, as softly as he knew how. He knew her loneliness. It echoed his own. He felt… something. Her. And she felt him. 

_Don’t be afraid – I feel it, too._

She fought. She stalemated him, somehow. He was confounded. And then he felt that tug in his mind. That rough tug _back_ ; taking from him instead of the other way around. He felt that tug in his whole body. In his very heart. That secret heart of Ben Solo.

Now though, there were no more voices. No one to tell him his path. No one to rally him to the cry of his destiny. No one to humiliate him for his failure. Live or Die. Now he finally has the opportunity to make His Own Choice. 

Fitting that this is the one he gets to make. 

But then – he hears a voice. Echoing in his mind. Feminine. Strong and clear. As if she stands right beside him, instead of limp in his arms. He knows that voice. He’d dreamed of that voice across the stars. 

_Ben._

His eyes widen as he blinks back the salt water stinging his eyes and stares harshly into her peaceful face. His heart is in his throat, brows knitting into confusion… or madness? He softly touches her. Her face, her wounds, looking for a reaction. Any reaction – but she remains still. 

_Ben._

A pause. All he can hear is the deep thudding of his heart and the quickened pace of his own breath. 

_You’re not alone._

His lips twitch up, just barely. He cradles her face, his thumb swirling a circle over her cheekbone, and whispers, “Neither are you.” 

And then, his tears do fall. And once they do, they won't stop. 

He weeps for his childhood. For all the betrayals and lies. For all the horrors others inflicted on him – and he on others. For all the desperation to be loved and not just _pushed aside_ or _leveraged_ for his pedigree and power. He weeps for himself, trapped in his loneliness. For his father and mother, who both died saving him. For the impossible number of futures he might have had – perhaps _she_ might have had – perhaps they may have had _together_. 

Anything that was not _this_. 

Through his sobs, he hears footsteps – running. A staccato rhythm against the flat stone floor. Even so, he still can't stop. He just clutches her all the more tightly. And silently begs. 

“REY!” The scream is crisp and echoes all around him. “REY! We’ve got to get to the Falcon! We need to get off-planet!” 

Kylo looks up and can see the shadow of a shape running at them, full speed. He reaches out with his mind. FN-2187. Finn. He schools his face back into neutral, yet still can not stop his tears. The Force had not taken enough from him today. Now it will take his dignity, too. 

Or maybe it’s giving him his much-deserved death, served at the hand of Rey’s _friend_. 

He feels the traitor… no, Kylo was the traitor now… he feels Finn’s frantic energy. His panic. Touching his mind, Kylo knows… this man had _felt_ Rey die. FN-2187 is sensitive to the Force. 

Of course he is. 

He feels his self-preservation kick back in. 

_________________

Finn’s breath comes in gasps as a stitch runs through his side. The adrenaline courses through him like fire after his ride atop star destroyers. Like most of his life, post-First-Order, his thought process consists of one word: _Rey-Rey-Rey-Rey_. 

He felt her die. He felt her _die_. How could he have possibly felt that? He had to be wrong. He. Had. To. Be. Wrong. 

His feet batter the stone as he nears a shape in the distance. He runs and runs… 

Until his heart freezes. 

Rey lays motionless. Battered. Blood clots across her wounds, her face tipped up towards the sky… 

In the embrace of Kylo Ren. 

Tears frame the Dark Force user’s face and he is covered with injuries all his own – but right then, Finn doesn’t see that. Any of that. And even if he did, he wouldn’t care. Right then, Finn’s vision bleeds RED. 

His feet skid into silence and his blaster rises to eye-level with a speed that _blurs_. He screams, “REN!” and the shot is fired before the word finishes. Then another, and another... 

Kylo Ren thrashes his hand sideways, as if waving him away in the most violent manner possible. With that motion, all the shots fling askew before Ren slowly rests his forehead against Rey’s once more. 

Disgust wrapped in jealousy envelopes Finn. 

The last time he had seen this _monster_ was on the remains of the Death Star. She had thrown Finn back, mercilessly. To save him. To keep him safe. 

Safe from Kylo Ren. 

What is he doing here? How did they _get_ here? Rey must have not been able to beat him - or else... had he escaped her? Finn’s mind fills with half-formed questions, too rapid-fire for him to articulate any of them. Above his urge to ask, though, is the rage. And the vicious loss. 

It seems that Finn just lost his 'possible-future', too. 

He fires off one more shot, brown skin flashing with a red arc of reflected light in the void of an otherwise blue background. Kylo thrusts his hand out once more, freezing the bolt in the air, hovering it there. Finn’s mind goes back to a night long ago. 

A night where his fellow Stormtrooper lay dying. A night where bloody fingers marked his stark white mask. It's as if he's there once more. 

The panic returns and the blaster comes up, again. 

“STOP!” Ren commands fiercely, wrapping his splayed fingers into a tight fist. Finn instantly feels a rigidity come over his body. Rey had told him about this - from when Ren took her – but Finn hadn’t even tried to imagine it, then. The helplessness. The paralyzing fear. His eyes bulge and, for the first time since entering the cave, the one he fears for is _himself_. 

Ren curls back over Rey’s unmoving body. His shoulders are… shaking. Why are they shaking? 

Finn hears the sob as he sees it run through Ren’s body. The vicious killer of innocents… is weeping. 

Disgusting. 

Ren picks up the thread of his train of thought, it seems, as his body freezes and his eyes lift to Finn’s. Viciousness drips there from the black pools of his wet eyes – but then they… soften. He looks down at Rey and… and he cradles her. 

Confusion laces with panic at the thought that Ren might have done something to her. Something worse than just wounding her, somehow. Something like... 

Again Ren’s eyes meet Finn’s. His lips twist into a sneer and the pressure holding Finn still doubles in weight. He can barely breathe. But, yet again, Ren’s eyes flick down to Rey. All at once, the pressure dissipates and Finn sinks to the floor, cushioned on invisible hands. 

“Just. Stop.” Ren says again. Soft. 

Finn’s heart breaks. But not for Ren. Never for him. “You killed her.” Not a question. A statement of fact. 

Ren touches her face and tucks her hair back behind one ear. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, as if he expected that accusation. 

"Palpatine killed her.” Resigned. Then, his voice turns vicious and he flicks his head back towards Finn once more, “The _Jedi_ killed her!” 

“Impossible…” Finn’s eyes narrow, disbelieving, but he still can’t form full thoughts. Adrenaline from the day’s horror seeps from him and he can’t help but sag. Helpless. Rey is dead. 

Rey is dead. 

He holds his hand to his mouth to stifle any sounds that well up in his throat. He will not make those sounds in front of this monster. Still, wetness runs down his face as defeat sinks into his body. No matter how many times he had run to save her, joined her on her misadventures, searched for her, waited for her... 

She is gone. 

“Not gone.” Ren says softly. “I… I might be able to save her.” 

Even in this situation, Finn can’t help but scoff, “That’s not the way the Force works.” 

Ren’s eyes focus on Rey alone. “I don’t think I understand all the ways the Force works, anymore.” His eyes come back up – they were sorrowful and resigned. “And neither do you.” 

Finn feels something then. A whisper. A prayer. Something tugs in his chest. 

_Trust him._

Trust him? Trust Kylo Ren? Bile rises in his throat and he readies himself for another barrage of blaster fire. He knows it will do no good, but he was beyond caring. 

The shots ring out again, and again the bolts stop in midair. But this time... Ren hadn’t moved. 

Ren’s eyes flick up and open wider. He switches his gaze from the bolts to Rey, and back again. Finn barely knows the face of Kylo Ren, but the expression he wears is one of transcendence. 

The bolts don’t violently flick away, as they had before. They simply… fade. 

Finn feels it again. That tugging in his chest. 

_Finn, please trust him._

Ren looks up at Finn as he breathes out, “You hear her, too…” 


	2. The First Dream

  
  


Art by [Avali](https://avaliart.tumblr.com)

_________________

Kylo tenses his fist and revels in the control; stopping that incessant man from lobbing more pointless blaster bolts his way. The man’s fear and fury wrap themselves around Kylo in the Force and he wields it proudly. This is what he was made for. Grim satisfaction starts to settle over him.

But then… he hears her.

_Stop._

So simple.

_Ben, please don’t go this way…_

Feeling those words in his mind brings him back to the Supremacy. To the orbs of sorrow trickling down her face in Snoke’s red room. To the moment _he could have chosen her_. Perhaps she didn’t just reject him. Perhaps, without meaning to, he had rejected _her_ , too.

As soon as he thinks it, the feeling crystallizes as truth in that new place in his mind where he hears the echoes of Rey. He feels a pang of pain from her. Fresh. Like it had just happened. Yes, he was not the only person whose heart had broken that day.

He curls over her and starts to tremble. This had all gone so wrong. An unbidden sob wracks through his body…

And then he feels it.

_Disgusting._

Not from Rey – from FN-2187. Finn. Kylo connects eyes with the man whose body remains at his mercy. He thinks, not for the first time, how easy it would be just to snap his neck and be done with it.

_Please._

Ahh, that was her. Even now. Even in near-death, she’s still fighting for the Light. This trait was something special about her. She had wrath, to a heightened degree at times, certainly - but also an enormous capacity for compassion. For forgiveness. Call it a kind of _grace_.

That train of thought halts as another feeling flows over from _Finn_.

It's amorphous – no real words behind it. A feeling that Kylo had done something with her – not fighting – something... else. Something to make him touch her as he was now. That thought was followed quickly by a hard stop - that, no, not _with_ her. He must have done something _to_ her, instead. 

Kylo’s eyes snap up to Finn’s, hearing the implication clearly in that cloud of thought. He shows his teeth and focuses hard on the pressure keeping this traitor at bay. Rey’s _friend_.

But, he doesn't hear a reproach. He can’t help but pause and glance at her. She didn’t even try to stop him this time.

He feels a small tug in his chest; something like ‘belief’ welling within him. Trust. If he needs the Light to save her, he knows he needs to pull from her strengths. From her grace.

With more than a little emotional effort, Kylo releases his hold on Finn, softening his fall to the floor for good measure. Before the man can cast even one more accusing glare, Kylo gently says, “Just. Stop.”

With those few words, the Darkness recedes, and exhaustion rolls over him. His head rings and his wounds ache. The bleeding stopped, but he knows his leg is broken. He's known since he hobbled to her from whatever chasm he’d been unceremoniously tossed down. Every step had _hurt_. But, the alternative of not getting to her was worse, somehow. He's no stranger to pain, anyway.

“You killed her.” Not a question. The other man simply states it as if it were fact. Kylo looks at Rey, tucking her hair behind her ear. Truly, why wouldn’t he expect that line of thought? It isn’t an odd conclusion to come to, given everything. All he and Rey had done before-and-after the Supremacy was _fight_.

There was that moment though, that gentle time in-between. It was as if they were preparing for a meeting in the middle. They both existed in stolen moments as their minds met, grappled and… courted. In the firelight. In that rising elevator – moving towards this precarious ‘middle’. This Balance.

But then everything fell apart. 

In rejection, he steeped himself more firmly in the Dark side. Hunting relics and occultists to continue on his quest to end both the Jedi _and_ the Sith as the Supreme Leader of the First Order. Killing the past while simultaneously chasing ghosts.

Rey, similarly, wrapped herself steadily in the Light. She became the hope of the Resistance. The face of their campaigns. The Last Jedi. But, no matter how she begged the Force, she could only reach so high into a Jedi’s ascension.

If he was fractured by the Light, she was tainted by the Dark. He would never be a Sith. And she should _never_ have had to become the will of the Jedi.

An invisible sigh echoes in his heart. An acknowledgement.

Without preamble, “Palpatine killed her.” Then his heart wrenches once more as he casts his eyes to Finn. “The _Jedi_ killed her!”

“Impossible.” The man’s dark skin is sallow in the cryptic light of this dying place. Like Kylo, his exhaustion ripples through his body like a wave. The man’s face _crumbles_. He stifles himself, but tears pour down his cheeks. Uncontrollable and unyielding. They cut tracks through the dust and debris that war had cast on him.

Kylo feels the man’s feelings, then; his love for her. More than just friendship – FN-2187 is in love with Rey. Before jealousy can bare its fangs in the mind of Kylo Ren, Finn’s thoughts erupt with one singular thread of horror and loss.

_She is gone._

Kylo may not have had experience with grace. Even in his youth. He is, however, quite familiar with _pity_. And that’s what he feels right now. Not in a way that holds disdain – but in the way you might look at an underfed animal and lament the cards life had dealt it.

Yes, Finn has earned Kylo’s pity. A rare gift.

“Not gone.” His thoughts drift back to what Skywalker had come to say. “I… I might be able to save her.” He doesn’t think so. Not really. But, for some reason, he hears it falling from his lips, as if someone else had said it.

Reasonably, Finn scoffs. “That’s not the way the Force works.” It strikes Kylo that the man sounded oddly like Han Solo in that moment. He reminds himself of his time in Rey’s mind, where both she and Finn were in the Millennium Falcon…

There’s no reason to continue that line of thought.

“I don’t think I understand all the ways the Force works, anymore.” He aims his stare back at Finn. This fledgling Force user. Infantile. Stunted. “And neither do you.”

Kylo doesn’t see it coming. How could he have not seen it coming? He didn’t even know it had _happened_ until it was already all over. Kylo looks from Rey’s body back toward the man who had dreamed of her love. Finn’s muscles are a taught line pointing his blaster muzzle directly between Kylo’s ribs. Aiming right at his heart. Between him and his assassin, though, bolts are suspended in the air. His first thought is that Finn had somehow changed his mind; had instinctively reached out to the Force. But… no…

Somehow – it's Rey.

The bolts dissipate, as if they’d never been there, and Kylo hears Rey again. No longer clear though – just barely an echo. He can’t make out the words. It's like a whisper around a corner. As if he was hearing her through someone else’s mind. Then he understands – _he is_.

Kylo looks up at Finn as he realizes, “You hear her, too…”

Then everything goes white.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His consciousness extends around him. His eyes are shut, but he can feel everything. Just as he’d trained as a boy. Life. Death. Creation. Destruction. The Force.

He’d meditated in his youth and found this place in his mind so many times, but this felt crisper. More real, somehow. Like you’d spent your life looking at a picture of fruit only to be awed when you finally got to handle it in real life. To turn it to different angles. Feel all its ridges and valleys. Smell it. Taste it.

It's…

It's too much.

He’d no sooner realized it then the scenery shifted. It's now hot. Dry. The sun does more than kiss his space-whitened skin. He nearly feels the freckles bloom on his face.

He is standing in the sand before a broken-down AT-AT. He knows this place from her memories. He slides inside, needing to see her tally marks for himself. He nudges at them with his fingers, feeling their edges, and wonders of the other tick marks she might carve over the course of her life.

At that thought, his heart sinks.

He finds himself drawn outside to where Finn stares at him from over the sea of sand. So close. If he wanted to, he could be there in three strides. Inflict any desired violence in this mirage of the Jakku desert.

But he finds he doesn’t want to.

Finn looks at him with a very personalized stare of hate. Kylo knows that expression. He’d seen it pointed in his direction so many times that it's lost all of its bite. Finn is, like him, unmoving. Vigilant, but unmoving.

He feels Rey before he sees her. Kylo’s face has long lost its desire to turn its lips into anything more than the smallest hint of a smile - but that hint appears in this moment, without even being asked. A meager twitch, completely missed unless you knew to look for it. Some childishness in him rears its head as he silently hopes that Finn hadn’t seen.

Once he's cast his thoughts in that direction, he can’t help but slide his eyes over, as well. Finn is, in a word, destroyed. His face crumples and he sinks to his knees. He calls out her name, over and over, his voice carrying.

But she doesn’t go to him. She doesn’t go to either of them. She stands at the apex of a triangle and smiles a bright beam down on them. When she speaks, it was with a shockingly simple, “Hi.”

Kylo almost snorts.

Her eyes connect with his and her grin widens. As she looks at Finn, though, her face falls. “Finn,” she soothes. “Hey, Finn – it’s going to be okay. It’s going to be alright…” She tips her head down, as if that would help her get a better view of his bleating face. “Ben’s going to fix all this…”

Kylo tenses, unseen.

Rey waits until she catches Finn’s eyes before smiling again. The man’s eyes brim with a suspicion that blares through his tears. “Ben?” He flicks his eyes to Kylo. Kylo doesn’t dignify it with a response.

“To put it simply,” her accent lilts. She seems _amused_ by all of this, somehow. “I died.” She tilts her grinning face up to the heat of the sky, not bothering to shield her eyes. “But… I also... couldn’t.”

Finn’s expression hardens as the moment drags out. “Good.” His eyes never leave hers, “Now, how do I keep it that way? How do I bring you _back_?”

Rey’s smile falters. “You can’t.” She pauses a moment. Kylo can see the protest forming in FN’s mind. He’s about to assert that YES, he absolutely CAN… but, there is something about this place. There is a truth here. This is not a place of lies. This Force-vision of Jakku sunlight burns holes in all guises.

Finn’s eyes are steel, his voice a flatline, “Only ‘Ben’ can.”

It's Kylo’s turn to react, which he does by focusing directly at Rey. He freezes his face into the neutral expression he’s had to school himself on... for those rare moments when he went without his mask.

Finn’s rage is only _just_ kept at bay while he tries not to shout, lifting himself to his feet, “Why? Why HIM, Rey? Is it a Force thing? Or…” he gestures outward. As if to say, simply, ‘why not me’? Finn looks like he wants to run to her – but he seems to know that he shouldn’t. Or, couldn’t perhaps.

Suddenly, Kylo finds himself standing alone.

Rey and Finn are gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn is still on Jakku – somehow finding himself in Niima Outpost, where he’d first found Rey. Only, it’s empty. Eerie. No one is there to barter for goods or trade old salvaged tech for portions.

Somehow, he feels like he hears her smile. Spinning fast, he finds that she’s closer to him now. His smile finally dawns, and he pushes himself into a run, slamming into her and gathering her up in one of their fierce embraces.

She’s still smiling at him, starting to push him back so they can speak properly. But Finn doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want her to pull away. Reluctantly, though, he loosens his grip and falls back into his smile. “There’s my girl.” He releases her and tips his head to the side, “You know, though… I really wish you would stop leaving me on random planets.”

Rey laughs, “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really! One of these days I’m not going to be able to find you again after – whatever it is that you run off to do.” His eyes soften at her.

“Like – ‘beat the bad guys’?” Half-jogging to a table, she takes a seat and gestures for him to do the same. They stare at each other for a moment in companionable silence before her patience runs out. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me?”

“Oh, Rey – there are literally too many things I want to ask you, right now.”

She wrinkles her nose as her smile spreads. “Okay, then ask me the most important thing.”

Finn sits on it for a minute. He knows what he needs to ask first, but his mind gently touches each of the other questions before moving on. “How do I get you back?”

Rey snorts, rolling her eyes. “Come on, Finn. I told you…”

“Okay, okay. Then why him?”

Rey’s smile fades slowly and her gaze turns distant. She was waiting for this question, he could tell, but it was like she still wasn’t sure where to start; how to answer. She braces her forearms on her thighs and looks up into the sky again. Neck craning in thought. “Ben and I - we are 'two that are one'.”

Finn’s brain hitches. There is a long pause where he can’t even form a coherent thought to follow that up with.

Rey smiles again. “I’m not sure how or why. But we are… bonded.”

Finn’s suspicion settles like stone as he gestures at himself, “Is this some kind of mind trap? Is Kylo Ren in my head right now, messing with me?”

Rey resists the urge to roll her eyes at him again, but fails immediately.

“Can you be bonded to someone else?”

Rey scoffs, “That’s not the way the Force works!” and Finn grins. She pulls her mouth into a smirk to match him. “I don’t think I can just change it.”

“What if we were to try?”

She nearly giggles. “Well, who would you even bond me to? Chewie? BB8?”

All levity leaves the conversation as Finn looks at Rey with _meaning_. “Me, Rey. We can bond you to me.”

Her eyes become sad and, as soon as that happens, Finn prepares himself for what’s coming. What he somehow knows she’s going to say. After all, a _friend_ knows these kinds of things.

She looks up at the sky again. “I never really told you about Ahch-to with Master Skywalker, did I?”

Finn lets his grin return, albeit less honestly. “What? We had all this time together and you never told me you met THE Luke Skywalker?”

Her smile is wistful before it fades. “He’s not who I thought he was. And I found – neither is Ben Solo.” Finn’s stomach sinks.

“The Force connected us to each other. It defied all logic, honestly. We could sense each other. See each other. Talk to each other from lightyears away…”

“What is there to talk about with Kylo Ren?” he says with not-a-small-amount of distaste.

“Oh, believe me, the first time it happened, I tried to shoot him.” She chuckles at the memory. “But it changed. It evolved… and I went to the Supremacy to save him.”

Finn stares at the shifting sand around his feet.

“He turned on his Master. He killed Snoke… to save _me_.”

Finn’s eyes narrow on hers in disbelief. “I thought you…”

Her smile is soft, “No. It was him. Then, we defeated Snoke’s guard together. Monsters in red armor, Finn. Weapons I could never have even imagined. But I wasn’t afraid. He was with me. We fought like… well, like we were one person. I’d never felt more in tune with the Force before then. Never as… strong. Capable. After it was all over, he’d asked me to join him.” Her scorn was palpable. “But I left him and found a way to get back on the Falcon, instead. To get down to that planet.”

Finn’s rage ekes back, like pinpricks in his skin. “Crait…”

Rey’s face falls into sadness, “I am not responsible for him, or his actions. But I do know that I broke his heart that day.” She pauses to steeple her hands under her chin, “Because it broke my heart, too.”

And there it was.

And yet...

“But… but he chased us. Around the GALAXY!” Finn stands and his voice raises in volume with every word. He points his finger in no small amount of disbelief. “Rey, you FOUGHT him! Over and over again! You _destroyed_ his damned ship with the craziest stunt I’ve ever seen! It BLEW UP; like a fireball! And, on the Death Star…” he falters.

Rey stoically stares into him, “On the Death Star, I killed Kylo Ren.”

A Pause.

“And then I saved Ben Solo.”

~~~~~~~~

Kylo stands, now suddenly in the wreckage of an Imperial-model ship. The exact class escapes him, as he’s only seeing it from the inside. Hallways and modular panels hardly lend themselves to solving that riddle. 

It’s not like the bond – there’s no change in sound, and yet – he knows she’s come.

Without turning to face her, he softly says, “Fancy meeting you here.” It dawns on him that these are the first words he’s spoken to her since Palpatine’s throne room. He should have chosen something more impactful.

She snorts, anyway, and his lips twitch up in response.

He turns to face her and they circle each other, slowly. Like they do before a duel. Sizing one another up. Daring the other to move first. As always, she’s the one to break the circle.

She steps in and puts her hand along his shoulder. Her touch is gentle. A whisper, really. Her eyes gaze up at him, wondrous, before that dazzling smile returns. He’d never seen her smile before this dream-Jakku.

“What happened? After the Supremacy, after Crait… what happened?”

How to summarize?

“I felt the presence of a strong Force user. I reclaimed a wayfinder from the planet Mustafar. I knew it would lead me to the epicenter of that Darkness in the Force. I believe you might have seen it on the console when you stole my ship.” His lips twitch once more, almost a smirk this time. “It led me to Exegol where I found Palpatine, among... other things. 

"He told me about your lineage. He told me…” his jaw clenches slightly, “to kill you.”

Rey’s gaze doesn’t falter, which encourages him to continue. “I knew I wouldn’t, so I also knew he would try to lure you to him. I tried to stop you. Any way I could.” His gaze caresses her. “When I broke your wayfinder – it was to keep you from him. I couldn't let you go alone. If you went, I needed to be there. I needed to... keep you _safe_.”

She considers him for a moment before pulling back her lips into that easy smile and looking sidelong down the imaginary hallway. “You know – I’ve lived on this desert alone for most of my life. Pulling parts out of Empire-era starships, like this one. Going days without seeing people. Without talking to people. Not talking much, even when I did. I learned languages mostly through old holos I’d scavenged.” Her chuckle is small, “And yet – you’re somehow a _worse communicator_ than I could ever be, Supreme Leader.”

Eyes wide, he scoffs, unsure of what else to do. He faces a wall, suddenly more than a little interested in... whatever this red wire does…

“I’d never felt so relieved in my entire life than I was when I felt you there with me.” The words come out softly and he half turns to face her again. “In Exegol - when the bond opened and I saw your eyes – I knew; I just knew everything would be alright.”

Expression tight, “Hardly. I’m injured and you’re…”

“Dead?”

His heart clenches.

She looks up at him again. “Then fix me, Ben.”

He eyes the gray durasteel panels in the pretend-ceiling. 

“You know I...” he starts fiercely, before thinking better of it. He trails off for a moment before finding his words. “I’m not the man you think you saved, Rey. In my life, I’ve aligned with both the Dark and the Light, but, even when I was at my _most_ Light, I could never do what you’re asking. What Skywalker is asking.” 

His eyes turn remorseful as he gazes at her. “The only thing I can possibly do for you is…”

Even here, he doesn’t want to voice it. He holds her eyes and softly reaches out. Gentle and slow, so she can pull away if she wants to. But she doesn’t. His bare fingers brush her cheek and his eyes show a reverence… and a resignation. All he can do for her, is die.

Like a coiled snake, she snatches his wrist, glare turning hard. “Don’t. Don’t you do that. Don’t even _think_ it.” 

She breaks her hold, steps back – and he lets her go. She is circling him again. Haughty. Proud. “I know a man who overcomes villages, no matter the _morals_ , no matter the odds.” She advances, step by step, his eyes always on her. 

“I know a man who served under two Masters and surpassed _both_ their expectations.”

Step, turn, pivot – it's like she's sparring with him, but with her words as the weapon. He narrows his eyes, knowing what she's getting at, but wanting to see how she gets there.

“I know a man who's withstood impossible trials, crushing pain, crucial setbacks, and still fights every step of the way to advance.” Form One. 

“I know a man who's stubborn, single-minded, and relentless in achieving his goals. Never giving up. _Never_ giving in.” Form Two. 

She is in front of him now and stares him down, cheeks flushed, “Especially when it comes to saving the woman he loves.”

It’s like an Earthquake in his body.

She steps in again, fiercely. Crowding his space. “Don’t you give up on me, Ben Solo. Don’t you dare. I am going to _live_. I am going to _wake up_. I will have a life and a family. Not just one that I _find_ \- One. That. I. MAKE.” Each word enunciated, rigid.

Her eyes are like fire on his as she tips her chin up in defiance. “One that I’ll make together with _you_.”

A confession. 

His death is no longer on the table for discussion.

Then she is gone. 

The sharp pain returns once more, as Ben Solo falls back into the body of Kylo Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay~ Second chapter up and running. One more to chum the water before I turn to a weekly Sunday Night update cadence.
> 
> Thank you for reading~  
> Comments, questions, local cuisine recipes and haikus are all acceptable responses.


	3. Saying Goodbye

  
  


Art by [Phase_Runner](https://posterspy.com/profile/phaserunner/)

_________________

_________________

Kylo awakens, nearly atop Rey, back in the blue light of the now-rumbling cavern of Exegol.

Finn stirs with a groan and crunches his body, perching on his elbows. After casting a heated look Kylo’s way, Finn stands and starts determined strides towards him. “Get up.”

Kylo’s eyebrows raise and he intends to reject the man just for the sake of it... but the quake of the floor beneath him changes his mind.

He won’t let her go – but he can’t stand. His leg sears and he feels the bones grind against each other. No sound escapes him other than a long uneven hiss of breath in through his nose.

Finn eyes him, half crumpled on the floor. “How bad is it?”

He flicks his hair back, sweat still making it cling to his forehead in strands, but says nothing.

“Have it your way.” Finn spins on his heels and sets a quick jog away from the two of them.

Kylo’s eyes go wide. He’s _leaving_ them here?

With no one to hear him, the Darksider grunts as he tries to move himself and Rey, all without turning his current fracture into a… _compound_ one. He gently realigns her body over his shoulder, dangling her head at his back and letting her knees press against his chest. This way, he manages to stand, balancing on one leg as much as possible, growling and calling on the pain to get him through this. Get _them_ through this.

The shaking beneath his feet starts to dislodge chunks of slate that tile around him. He hears them clacking and tumbling. Silt rasps as it cascades to the floor.

It seems they have a slight... problem.

With a small cry, he lurches forward. Just one step – barely leaning on his bad leg as he mostly _hops_ forward. He looks to the light emanating from too-far away.

They’re not going to make it in time…

But, damn it, he’s going to try.

He continues his frail path forward to the mouth of this nightmare place; huffing and hissing as his wounds reopen and blood begins to flow once more. Still, he presses forward. He can’t hear Rey’s mind now - not while he's like this. Flooded with the Dark side as it roars him into motion. Once again, he’s on his own.

Until he’s not.

That familiar slapping is heard from in front of him. Kylo reigns in his cries of pain, flicking the sweat off his brow once more as he lifts his eyes to find Finn running towards him with a hover-cot in tow. The curse he utters under his breath is actually a grateful one.

Once there, Kylo sets Rey down onto the cot – gently – but there’s no time to arrange her nicely. He nods firmly at Finn, gesturing, “Go. Take her. I’ll catch up.”

Finn narrows his eyes at him. “You’re an idiot.” Finn’s smile is cold. “Get on this. Right. Now.”

Kylo hears a crash as another chunk of the high ceiling decided it was time to _let go._ Much to his own chagrin, he nudges Rey to the side, allowing just enough space to heft himself next to her. When he touches her, he feels hate roll off of Finn like a storm. 

_Well, this should be fun._

He flicks both hands out and _reaches_ – to which Finn stumbles back, slightly, ensuring he’s out of Kylo’s grasp.

Two lightsabers crash into his palms, a short pause between them, _THWACK, THWACK!_ He quickly tucks them between his body and Rey’s.

Understanding, Finn wastes more no time before shoving the cot forward, breaking into as crisp a run as he can manage. Kylo grips onto the edges to brace himself from falling off. His eyes widen, suddenly. He feels it before he sees it. The ceiling above them is coming down. Now.

There’s no time.

Kylo reaches deep into his pain and his sorrow, looking down at Rey before pushing UP with his mind. Immediately he grimaces as he feels the sheer violence of _weight_ press into the Force barrier he'd just erected around them. Pressing on his brain and his heart and his… everything.

Finn falters, his speed dropping as he stares out above them. Chunks of body-crushing material and a smattering of dust particles float in the air above his head.

“Don’t stop,” Kylo grits out and Finn comes back to himself, hightailing it once more. The light bleeds around them as they approach the maw. When it finally blinds him, Kylo wonders how long he must have actually spent in the darkness of that cavern in order to make the dull grey haze of the planet's surface seem _bright._ Lightning still crashes around them, worsening his already splitting headache.

He lets out a sigh and releases his hold on the Force, causing a cacophony of stone-rending thunder. The entrance is destroyed. He knows without even having to look back.

Kylo thinks, for his part, Finn is being quite the… trooper. His exhaustion is palpable – both of theirs is. Today had been a day of _war._ Finn pants and drips with sweat and dirt, but never slows down as he shoves the hover-cot up the ramp…

Onto…

Onto the Millennium Falcon.

Shit.

___________

Finn charges at the Falcon, not even registering any reason why Kylo Ren would have any reservations about getting on this ship and off the damned planet.

Even if he did, it’s likely that Finn would do it anyway – just for spite.

Chewbacca is at the helm, working to take off at a moment’s notice. The Wookie can’t see the entrance to the ship, so Finn calls out as he slams the button to raise the ramp, “Chewie – WE’VE GOTTA GO!” before continuing his mad dash to the ship’s small med bay.

Once there, he collapses himself on a second cot and sits for a moment, gasping.

“This is a bad idea…” Ren says flatly.

Finn sneers up at him. “Suck it up, buttercup.” The engines rev up and Finn grasps onto the tethered cot’s guard rail to steady himself.

Evidently, Ren needs no such effort.

“Why are you helping me?”

Finn’s breath still pants in and out of him like gasps, but his eyes glitter viciously.

“Back there…” Ren’s eyes narrow, “She talked to you, too. That’s why you’re doing this for me.”

Finn’s ears catch on the word, ‘too’.

The ship pitches and Chewie roars back at Finn, in need of a copilot. Finn stands, keeping a hand on the rail. “To be Very. Clear. I am _not_ doing it for _you._ I am doing it for _Rey_. I am helping my _best friend."_ He looks Ren up and down, “And I can’t trust you to do what you need to do on your own.” The ship lurches and Finn squeezes his eyes closed, a sudden wave of nausea running through him.

“She may see Light in you. But I don’t.” His eyes open and return sharply to those of his new responsibility, “So I’m gonna stick _right_ by you – like your Goddamn shadow – and you’re going to figure out how the hell to prove me _wrong._ ” Finn’s hand arcs down, a gesture of finality, before he moves with faltering steps to answer Chewie’s call.

Finn feels like he’s selling his soul to the devil. Allying himself with a monster. And he’s right.

Thrusting himself into the copilot’s chair, he fumbles with the switches he’s -still learning about- with directions shouted in a language he can -just barely understand-.

All around them are broken things. Firelight and clouds of smoke still hang in the sky. Chewie grunts and points to bring Finn’s attention to a certain button and they’re somehow able to get up and out, breaking atmo.

The scene outside the planet doesn’t look all that better. The lack of gravity floats dead bodies of all races and species. Finn can’t help but see many armored in red or white, knowing that could have been his future. If not for Poe.

Poe.

Finn’s throat clenches as his hands blur towards the comm system. “Black Leader, Black Leader, do you copy? This is the Millennium Falcon; over.”

There’s a moment of static and Finn’s throat runs dry.

One last crack and, “Finn? Finn, buddy – is that you?”

Finn and Chewie can’t help but let out great “Whoop”s of relief! Finn’s eyes water.

“Yeah, Poe – yeah. We’re good. We made it!”

“Did you get Rey?”

Finn freezes.

If he told Poe that he had Kylo Ren… it wouldn’t matter if they needed him to save her. Poe would kill him. And smile while he did it.

And that would kill Rey.

He feels his heart wither a little. The decision seems to have made itself without him. He closes his eyes and thinks to himself, _Goodbye, Buddy._

He grips the receiver in his fist. “Yeah – we did. She’s gonna be alright. She did it, Poe – she beat Palpatine. She saved us. She saved us _all."_ His voice catches on the last word and he hears every crackle.

“Thank the Maker! Let me send you coordinates to our rendezvous point…”

“Poe – wait. Rey has something…” he swallows, “that she needs to do. We’re not going to be able to meet up with you right away.”

It takes a beat to hear a response from the other side of the comm.

“Can we help? Do you need us?”

A single tear makes its way down Finn’s dark face as Chewie watches. He swallows, “No, I don’t think so.” He tries to huff out a laugh, “It’s one of those ‘Force Things’.”

He hears Poe chuckle on the other side, “Well, I guess, then – May the Force be with you.”

Finn’s lips curl upwards a bit realizing the Force is, indeed, _actually_ with him. ”You, too.”

A triumphant tone takes over Poe’s voice, “You know how to reach us when you’re ready. It looks like the Resistance won’t have to do much hiding anymore. Black Leader out.”

The comm goes silent and Finn puts down his mouthpiece.

Chewie regards him quietly and purrs for information. Finn doesn’t know where to start so he flips his hands, gesturing towards the back, starting simply with, “Rey’s in the med bay.”

Then he breaks down.

____

There’s one benefit of already knowing his way around this piece-of-trash ship. He knows where everything is. In fact, it’s a little disheartening to know that things are the _exact_ same way as they’d been since the last time he was on this ship when he was, what? Ten? Maybe?

Splints and bacta surround him as Kylo scoots the secondary cot over near Rey’s. He’s reticent to admit that he’s afraid to be away from her. Even to himself. He glances at her quickly – his face softening. She'd said it before he'd even put words to it, himself. The fascination. The deep-seeded need. The obsession. He'd refused to waste time wondering why she'd taken him completely over... other than to recognize that he felt whole when she was near him. She was right. He loves her. He _loves_ her.

And, impossibly, it sounded like she wants him, too. He must have misunderstood.

Pain lances through him again. Now’s not the time for this.

Having patched himself up many-a-time, he focuses on taking stock of his wounds and the supplies. They seem to have a surplus – but he’ll be sparing, anyway – only addressing the most major of his wounds.

His leg would need to wait. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure he could set it on his own without a proper med-droid. The bone segments had moved askew and were _grinding_ together, so splinting was not yet an option until it was realigned. And, unless something had magically changed regarding the medical capacity of this ship, realignment was not in the cards for today.

He decides to start with a gash on his side, instead. Lifting his shirt, he frowns as the thickened blood rips the fabric away from his skin. It starts to bleed again, and it's deep enough. He threads a suture needle and sucks the inside of his cheeks; executing his task quickly. Smoothing Bacta over it, he encases it in gauze before looking for the next issue in line.

Wounds cleaned, stitched and bandaged, he lays down slowly, using his elbows and not his core, to lower himself. Once there, he lets his breath regulate. The sweat is drying now and he is bone-chillingly _cold._ Nothing for it – as he isn’t making himself get up or try to walk on his damn leg again. His thoughts start to cloud. His eyelids are heavy. He’s in danger on this ship – and he know it. The Wookie will kill him when he sees him.

And he can’t die just yet.

Not yet…

Against his better judgement, he falls asleep.

_____

She’s smiling at him again and his eyes warm to her. They’re still sitting in soft sand under the desert sun.

“With the whole universe at your fingertips, why do you keep bringing me back to Jakku?”

“How do you know it’s Jakku? There are other desert planets,” she mocks.

He deadpans, “Yes, I imagine you know a great _many_ other desert planets.”

She snorts again. This seems to be her standard response to his sarcasm. He doesn’t mind in the slightest.

He half turns to face her. “Why are we here, Rey?”

He wants to touch her. He wants to hold her. The last time he did, her body was so cold he could barely stand it. But here – in the sun – would her skin finally be warm? But he doesn’t dare move. She's always the one to break the circle.

Her smile is playful as her eyes roll. “Don’t want to see me, Ben?”

It was his turn to snort. “I think I’ve proven to what lengths I’ll go to see you.”

Her real smile blooms and his lips twitch again.

She does it, then. She breaks the circle. Peacefully. It’s nothing spectacular, but it is. She simply scoots over near him, facing him in a meditative pose. So near that their knees touch.

“I’ll be here every night, you know.”

His eyebrows slide up, slightly.

“In your dreams. I will come to you. Every night.”

He ponders, nibbling the inside of his bottom lip. “Is it really a dream, then? Am I making this up in my own mind?”

Rey leans in and puts one hand over his. “No.” Their eyes connect and he sees something in hers for the first time. Something for him. Some feeling, _just_ for him… but he can’t read her mind in this place.

“It’s _our_ dream, Ben. Yours and mine.”

Tentatively, he turns his palm over – an invitation – which she takes immediately by interlacing their fingers together. Slightly awkwardly, given their position, but she does. He stares at their joined hands, dumbly.

“Rey?”

“Mm?

He pauses. There’s so much he wants to say – but he’s not ready yet. It’s all too much. This _feeling,_ this wellspring filling up his heart. In all the nooks and crannies. He feels like he could drown in it if he’s not careful.

So Kylo decides to be careful. He grips her hand firmly. “Thank you.”

Her eyebrows knit together, tight, making lines in her skin. 

She rocks their clasped hand back and forth over one of his knees. “Hey…” she reaches out with her other hand and rests it on the opposite knee. “If you get to thank _me_ , then I’m thanking you, too.”

He wants to retort something witty, but nothing comes. He focuses, instead, on the warmth of her palms and the warmth of the Jakku sun. He’d been so cold on the med-bay cot. So cold in arid star ships. Cold from the inside out. But now he feels… perfect. It’s been too long since he’s been on-planet long enough to enjoy the feeling of a sun.

In this peaceful moment, Kylo slips his eyes closed and tilts his face up into the rays. Letting them cascade over his birthmarks. Through his hair. Lighting up the insides of his eyelids.

He knows that Rey is doing the same.

Peace thrums through him. From his one hand, twined into hers, though his shoulders and to the next place where their bodies connect. Like a circuit.

His eyes open and he watches her as she continues this sort of meditative trance. A smile tugs at her lips. “Stop watching me, Ben,” and one eye opens slightly to peek at him.

His face breaks open into a smile. A real smile. And she sees his dimples for the first time.

_______

Kylo wakes up to Chewie throwing him against a wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhhkay! Strap into your seats cats and kittens, we're going on a QUEST! I'm new to Star Wars as a franchise. I've seen all the movies, read all the sequel trilogy books and the Rise of Kylo Ren comic series. If I'm missing something by the way of lore - I ALREADY PROSTRATE MYSELF BEFORE YOU. 
> 
> *weep*
> 
> See you next Sunday Night!


	4. Ruins of the Past

  
  


Art from _The Rise of Kylo Ren_. Artist [Will Sliney](https://www.marvel.com/comics/creators/12999/will_sliney) and written by [Charles Soule](https://www.charlessoule.com/latest-news)  
__________

Kylo’s back SLAMS into the med-bay’s steel wall, head snapping back against it not-long-after. He blearily opens his eyes to see Chewbacca’s deep brown glittering back at him. The creature is near _frothing._

He’s bleeding again – and he can barely hear Chewie’s incoherent howls over the sound of his body being rammed, over and over, into the wall. His headache feels like it’s about to split him open at the hairline. There is a pause in action and Kylo’s mournful brown irises are unsheathed as he stares his Uncle right in the eyes. His face is stoic, despite the pain. He juts his chin out, tilting his head to better see one of the last remaining members of his family.

There is a tense moment where they just breathe. Chewie’s like a pant, Kylo’s like a hiss through his nostrils. There no one else in the world in this moment. In this moment – it’s a reckoning.

The Wookie raises his paw into a fist…

And Kylo gives in.

He closes his eyes once more, simply leaning his head back against the durasteel wall, and waits.

He hears a gurgled roar of fury and braces himself on his good leg.

“CHEWIE, NO!”

Kylo opens his eyes to find Finn _launching_ himself into the fray. The man is too small to have much of an effect, but he succeeds in throwing himself against the Wookie, separating the two of them. Finn’s body wraps around Chewie’s fist-bearing arm, and his dark eyes stare down the creature’s violence.

“REY.” Finn placates. “Think of _Rey."_

Slowly, Chewie backs off. 

Finn slides down and plants his feet firmly between the two warring parties. His stance is wide and his knees bend slightly, ready to move again – quickly – if needed. His shoulders rise and fall with his heavy breathing. His hands are to each side – not in a calming gesture, but one ready to get scrappy if he has to.

Kylo’s body slides down the wall, leaving a fresh trail of blood behind him in a stripe that marks the metal. His head lolls for a moment, before he gathers himself and continues his emotion-filled stare, lips slightly parted – as if words were just on the tip of his tongue.

But they weren’t.

Chewbacca wrathfully turns and stomps out of the med-bay. Finn remains in position for a little while longer – as if to both ensure the ordeal was over with, and also to give himself a moment to wrap his head around it. When that moment passes, he whips around and folds to his knees in one gesture, violently grabbing Kylo by the shoulders. If he’d still had his shirt on, he’s sure that Finn would have tried to throttle him with it.

“What the hell is _wrong_ with you!?” He hisses.

Kylo leans his head back again, closing his eyes as he intones. “Other than medically? Well – I also was _just_ assaulted in my sleep.” He huffs, “I suppose ‘what’s wrong with you’ could be more of an ‘in general’ question, though… in which case – I’m sure I could put together a small li-”

FN-2187 thumps him against him wall again.

“Why did you let him? Huh? _Huh?_ You should have stopped him. He could have…“

“Killed me?” Kylo raises an eyebrow over his closed eyes. Gods he was tired.

Unintentionally, he pulls an endearment from Finn’s mind. “I know that _you_ know, Eight-Seven, that innumerable people in this galaxy have reasons to kill me. But that _Wookie?”_ He nods in the direction of the doorway, “He’s probably the only one I’d let do it.”

Finn’s scowl deepens.

“It would be… poetic,” Kylo says in a near-whisper.

Shock blasts across Kylo’s senses in time with Finn’s whip-crack hand. His lip splits again. Damn it – he needs to better about keeping his guard up. He is _not_ among friends here. 

He presses the back of his hand to his mouth, skewing his lip slightly to the side, his eyes darkening as he looks up to his ‘savior’.

Finn’s wordless face is like stone and his finger points straight behind him – to the cot over his shoulder. Kylo can see it from his vantage point, though Finn was faced away from it. He sees her dirty knees drift over the edge and her slight wrist dangling her hand over the side.

“Would _she_ think it was poetic?” Finn asks firmly.

Kylo’s features soften. He pauses a beat, then taps his head back against the wall once more with a sigh. “Alright. I hear you.”

“Good.” Finn stands and strides to the wall, bringing the med kit back down again and laying it by Kylo. “Seems you’re good at stitching – so I’ll leave you to it. Make me a sweater while you’re at it.”

He spins around, starting towards the entryway – but pauses, “Ren.”

Kylo looks up from the kit to see Finn’s eyes like fire on his, “ _Never_ call me Eight-Seven again.”

And with that, Kylo is alone on the floor. His eyes set about the room before landing on the cot he’d been roughly kidnapped from. He grabs the kit and grunts into a one-legged stand. He fingers the red smear he’d left on the wall before hobbling back to his cot to continue to be his own nurse.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo slides his hand over his face. Again, again, and again. From above his eyebrow, down his cheek, his neck, into the hollow of his shoulder, and over the top of his pectoral where is should have ended in a twirling flourish. Again, he weaves the path.

Again.

And Again.

His scar is gone.

It must have been from when Rey healed him. In fact, all other his scars had melted away – save the new ones he’d just earned himself.

Kylo scuffs the towel over his body to remove the last of the bacta gel. Thankfully, they’d made it planet side and found a medical facility. Tragically, and of course, it had to be _this_ planet.

He stares at his face again; his heart is conflicted with mixed feelings. He’d had it for less than a year – but it was… meaningful.

Finn must have paid a good amount of money, getting him into a bacta tank. It's a blessing, as his leg had begun to fester from the inside. He _felt_ it.

Testing it out, he bounces before turning to balance on it. In the ‘fresher, he practices a few saberless forms, just to see if its use had been stunted.

It hadn’t.

He has always been amazed by bacta.

He redons his blood-crusted shirt and pants, nodding at the med droid before leaving. Thankfully the shirt was black. Makes it hard to see his dried essence through the fabric.

The space opens to one of Elphrona’s sparsely set cities. Rustic, mostly wooden buildings – no steel, very little glass, and lots and lots of stone. Species of all kinds are milling about today and Kylo keeps his eyes to the ground to allow his hair to obscure his face. Safe. Be _safe._

Even so - only a small group of people had seen Kylo Ren’s face outside of his mask. And it's likely that almost all of them are dead now. Floating forever in a sea of stars around a planet made of lightning.

Though the planet is fairly large, he can feel that they’ve landed near… _it._ There is a twinge in his gut.

The ruins.

Voe, Hennix… Tai.

They had _hunted_ him. They hunted him to this planet. His fellow Jedi from Skywalker’s temple. They blamed him for what happened. They _assumed_ that he did it. That he _must_ have done it. All of them – except for Tai.

 _Did_ he destroy the Skywalker Temple? Even now – he’s not so sure. He didn’t do it actively, anyway. Kylo recalls his _horror_ at the scene. The desperation. The helplessness. The bodies. The _burning._ Thinking of it now – it was likely that Snoke did it.

Backing him into a corner, once more.

So he’d have nowhere to go – but to _him._

He inhales the scent of being on-world before striding back onto the Falcon. Chewie and Finn are off shift, so he decides to see how well he remembers how to run this tin can on his own. Flicking switches, he gets her up, soft-and-silent, so he doesn’t cause trouble with his cohorts.

Until they figure out that he moved the ship, that is.

A mischievous smirk glances over his features as he swipes his hand through his hair and runs another finger down his scar-less face.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn sits by Rey’s bedside, taking her hand in his. He hasn’t heard her ‘voice’ in his mind since yesterday, in Exegol. He’d arranged her _just so_ on the cot, tucked the sheets in up to her waist and cleaned off as much of the blood as he could while keeping her decent.

Mildly, he wonders about meals and bathroom functions – but she did say Luke put her in something like _stasis_ – so that means… everything is stasis…i…fied? Is that a word?

She looks peaceful.

Honestly, Finn can’t remember a time when she’d seemed peaceful. She was always – determined or concerned or excited or smiling or fighting. Leia always kept everyone away when she mediated, so he’d never seen what that might have looked like.

She doesn’t look meditative now. She looks like she's sleeping. Her pink lips are parted slightly. Those little wisps of her hair still sticking out, like always.

He hesitates.

Gently, slowly, Finn lifts his hand and swipes the pad of his finger over her forehead, tucking the errant strands behind her ears. It’s something he’d always wanted to do, but never could. His heart is heavily thrumming in his chest. He aches for her. Seeing her vulnerable like this…

He hears a noise as Chewie steps up beside him, resting a heavy paw on his shoulder. Shame blazes through him, but they sit there together in something akin to a companionable mourning. Minutes pass like this.

He feels a double pat against him and listens to a sorrowful growl. Chewie continues on for a bit, gripping tightly onto Finn’s collar and rocking him slightly. Finn’s translation is meager, at best, but Chewie said something like, “Don’t tell yourself lies about what will happen with the two of you when she wakes up. Nothing real comes from this place.”

Whining once more, pragmatically, though cruelly, Chewie reminds him that there’s no use falling in love with a corpse.

The silence he leaves is palpable.

Alone, Finn stares morosely at the wall, wondering numbly if Rey would like this kind of planet. What she would have thought of the little stone and wooden city. If she would have made the same faces she’d made on Pasaana, looking at all those children singing and dancing. He wishes she were awake so he could show her.

Suddenly, in his mind, he hears a whisper. A tug in his chest.

He knows it’s her.

Another tug. He stands up, panicking and staring down at her quiet face.

TUG.

 _Find Ben_.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo is setting the ship down, marveling at his luck. Either he flew so smoothly that no one noticed or his shipmates had just decided to steer clear, regardless. He finds the latter unlikely, as he knows how his Uncle feels about this ship… and the thought of someone flying it _solo_.

Also – it seems that Chewie has no qualms in confronting him about his transgressions.

He hurries to the ship’s exit but – pauses – looking back towards the med-bay. It’s almost like he heard her say his name.

He’s… reluctant to leave Rey. She’s here, safe… but, still. He wants to lay on the cot beside her and dream, just to talk to her more. Talk without fighting. Find peace alongside her.

Even so – he feels drawn to the ancient ruins he’d visited with Skywalker and Lor San Tekka, in the time _before_. Could this _thing_ that’s calling him help him with Rey? Is that why he feels this pull, now?

The ramp drops and he hears a clear voice ring out from behind him, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Did you… did you move the _ship?_ How did you _move the SHIP?"_

Ah, well.

He doesn’t look behind him, but shrugs slightly, knowing he’s been caught. He’d almost made it.

“You’re not going out there alone.”

“Watch me.” He says with a light tone in his voice. Playful, almost. Until Finn follows him.

Kylo says nothing, but continues on. Finn is keeping his promise about being his – what was it? ‘Goddamned shadow’? Obstinate. There are some choice colorful words Kylo can think of to describe him. His hackles start to rise at the lack of fear this man has for him.

Finn, though, is taking pleasure at making his life miserable. He casts jabs and barbs his way. Looking to get a rise out of him, if nothing else. Kylo knows the aim of this childish game, so he makes it a point to just ignore him.

A few handfuls of minutes later, they arrive at the ancient ruins of his past.

Even destroyed, it’s still impressive. Pieces of stone statues lay slaughtered in cracked crumbles on the dwindling yard of the area. Vines have overgrown, hiding the faces of the men once carved to stand watch here.

Finn marks the devastation. In an awed voice, he wonders aloud, “What happened here… a bombing?”

Kylo moves forward with remorse hidden below a veil of anger and just says, “It was me.”

Finn following close behind, he climbs a ridge to find the place where Hennix’s life ended. His first kill.

It barely counted. Even the Knights of Ren didn’t find it to be a _Good Death_. He’d accidentally killed this comrade while trying to defend himself – distracted while he was _saving_ a different opponent. What a stupid, foolish boy he’d been.

No matter what the Jedi say about peace - they had come for him first. That was a cold, hard _fact_. He’d spared them at every turn, given them every opportunity to walk away - but they refused. Over and over.

He found a small headstone there. No name – just a marker. It dawns on him who must have left it. Once they’d escaped the ruins he’d collapsed on top of them, that is. The two Jedi that remained.

Voe – the one who blamed him unequivocally for the Temple. Who had competed with him at every turn in their youth. Honestly, it was never much of a competition. It had given her more than a slight distaste for him, even before anything _bad_ had ever happened.

The other one was… the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend. He had always been distant from everyone - but this friend had a talent for seeing more deeply into his mind than others - before he hit the wall that Ben Solo’s secrets hid behind. 

That one had believed in him and held out hope for him for as long as he could. Had almost brought him home again – even after everything.

That is, until his friend was killed by the Knights of Ren.

Right in front of him.

His name, still a wound.

Tai.

That was when he finally had chiseled his rage into a fine point and drove that point straight through their Leader’s heart. Gave him a ‘Good Death’. The one they wanted to extract from Ben Solo as a kind of payment for entry into the Dark Side. His first _real_ kill. That was when he became the Master of that vicious band of murderers. Master of the Knights of Ren, a band of devils whose only thought was to find something to _burn._

Finn interrupts him from his reverie. “Who’s underneath the marker?” He asks, viciously, “You kill _him_ , too?”

Kylo keeps his eyes to the horizon and simply says, “Yes.”

Let Finn think him a monster. All that matters in this moment is the _pull_ he feels from the interior of the ruins. He starts his way down, grateful for the use of his leg once more and for the _glory_ that is bacta. He hears the smattering of pebbles behind him slide, followed by a curse under Finn’s breath, which makes him nearly _grin._

“Ren! Wait up – what in the hell are you...?”

At the entrance to the ruins, Kylo reaches into himself and pushes _out_ with the Force. The stone slabs realign themselves. He grits his teeth and finds something harder to do than brute force – _finesse._ He starts to stack block upon block until a way is opened before them.

“Whoa…” is all that drops from Finn’s lips. Kylo looks back over his shoulder and can’t help but give a smug nod. He must have really impressed him, because Finn doesn’t even retort. Without hesitation, he swiftly ducks in.

It’s still crowded with destruction. Kylo uses the Force to jump, weave and bob around obstacles easily. He takes in the fact that a fair amount of debris lay behind him for Finn to have to climb over the standard way. There is a kind of petulant satisfaction in that. It reminds him of his long-standing rivalry with Hux. Surprisingly, he finds himself wanting to fill that void. 

He’s still ecstatic that he’d so severely demoted Hux after the Supremacy and Crait. One of his life’s greatest pleasures, up to that point. Before certain _dreams_ had found him.

Finn huffs, annoyed, as he clambers over yet-another stone carving. Some have writing, some have symbols, some have faces… this _particular_ one is a broken hunk of a larger, borderline on gigantic, stone face.

“You know,” Finn starts, “I never thought I’d spend my day climbing over rocks shaped like people’s noses. It’s new for me, honestly. And this? This is the biggest nose I’ve ever seen…” he continues on, “aside from yours, of course…”

Unexpectedly, Kylo snorts in amusement. This catches Finn off guard and his feet catch on one another, tossing him abruptly down to his knees. Finn hisses as the heels of his hands scrape.

The man's eyes flick up as he sees Kylo loom above him. He tsks at the trooper slightly before a sardonic smirk twists his lips, “You know – you _could_ learn to use the Force. It’s in you after all.” His smirk deepens, “Barely.” He lifts his head and gestures towards the detritus around them. “It would make this so much easier for you.” He offers his hand.

Finn eyes him warily and takes it, standing up, before smacking it as if it was something unsavory. Kylo cocks an eyebrow.

“Maybe, if you ask Rey, she can teach you.”

It's a probing statement. What Kylo actually wants to know is if Rey and Finn were still… in contact. If they've been speaking since Exegol’s throne room. Rey had come to Kylo in his dream… but what about Finn?

Finn doesn't answer, lost in thought, instead.

Kylo finds that unsettling.

Deeper and deeper inside the ruins they go, the light dimming into shadow. He unclips the lightsaber from his belt and ignites the blade. There is no room for flourishes here, as is his habit, but the blue illumination is all they need. Kylo feels something here. He _knows_ it. If he could just _grab_ on to that feeling…

“How much deeper do you want to go into the Cavern of Doom? I know you and Rey are really good at – I dunno – lifting rocks… but, as you so _kindly_ pointed out, I’m not quite equipped for that.” Finn sighs through his nose. “Why are we even here, anyway?” Finn’s tone is demanding.

Kylo thinks of not answering him, he really does. If for no other reason than to just piss him off. Or to assert control over the conversation. The Supreme Leader Kylo Ren will _not_ have anything demanded of him.

But – he thinks of Rey and he softens. He’s not the Supreme Leader anymore. He’s not even really Kylo Ren anymore… nor is he Ben Solo.

Who is he?

Why is he here?

Then, simply, “This is where I first met the Knights of Ren.”

His stomach drops along with some inches of the floor beneath his feet. A now familiar rumbling sound echoes through the cavern as Kylo feels the ground begin to _roll_.

Just like Exegol.

The ruins are collapsing…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY! I COULDN'T WAIT!!! AHHH! I'll still update more on Sunday, I promise.
> 
> Here is a light trip through the Rise of Kylo Ren comics, just for backstory's sake. From here on out, we'll be moving past the movies and other canon into new territory. I can't wait to bring you alongside me! <3


	5. The Holocron

  
  


There is dust _everywhere._ In his mouth, in his eyes, up his nose.

But he’s not dead. So, there’s that.

Ren’s lightsaber lays on the floor, sizzling blue against the stone. The man is standing, sweating, as if he’s just fended off an army. Perhaps he has; an army of rocks. Why is it always _rocks?_

The Darksider’s eyes are distant.

“I feel it.” He turns his head Finn’s way. “Do you feel it?”

Finn is spending too much time sloughing the dust from his nose, spitting mud between his legs.

“I’ll take that as a no…” Ren deadpans, earning him a _look._

Reverently, more to himself than to Finn, he speaks aloud, “This was once a sacred place for the Jedi. They ‘retrieved’ rare artifacts and kept them here. Weaponry, texts, scrolls. Amazing things. _Priceless_ things. The order never actually used any of them – even when I came with Skywalker to collect them. They just _stored_ them. Archived them.” He sneered, “Wasteful. Arrogant. Everything miraculous just tucked away… nothing used except for the Holocrons.”

Ren goes rigid, back ramrod straight.

“The Holocrons…”

Finn is still snorting silt.

Ren’s hand thrusts towards the ground in a smooth action and the saber obeys, snapping quickly into his palm. There is room to twirl it now, which he does, before he silences the blade and clips it to his belt. The dark envelops them, but the entrance still casts _just_ enough light to see.

Ren’s arms slowly pan wide and his eyes slit. Finn feels… something. Something vibrating around him. His teeth set on edge and his nerves start to grate. A tinny whistle screams in his ears.

_He’s calling it._

Rey?

_He’s asking it where it is._

Jedi Holocrons teach about the Light, right? Is it possible that one is hidden within the ruins? If Luke Skywalker came here before, how did they miss it the first time?

He's not sure that she can 'hear' him silently question her - but he feels Rey’s tug, anyway.

_It must have been waiting for him._

Ren’s head snaps up, and he pulls his lips into an upward quirk, seeming pleased with himself. He’s looking up to a ledge of stone that hovers precariously - roughly five meters above them to the left. The man in black widens his stance and shakes his arms out to the side, puffing his cheeks out in a heavy breath before taking two massive running steps and…

VAULTING himself through the air.

What…?

Wonderment overcomes Finn in that moment, and he lets out some sort of scoff – but it’s actually a sound of being… impressed. Disbelieving. He hates this man. Truly hates him – but he is beginning to understand why he commanded such fear and respect.

Maybe it wasn’t _just_ because of his temper tantrums.

Finn can't begin to imagine what fighting beside Ren in battle would have felt like. Something like being invincible by his side.

This man is _good_ , Finn admits to himself.

He fought against Ren, once. The man had been severely injured, bleeding all over the snow, and yet Ren had _still_ almost managed to kill him. He definitely would have if not for... intervention.

Finn approaches the lip of the outcrop reluctantly, and looks up above him into blackness, fists on his hips. “Ren?” He whispers. Why is he whispering? He clears his throat and says it a little louder this time. Either way, he’s met with silence.

He shifts from one foot to the other, unsure of what to do with himself. The silence stretches. At least the walls weren’t falling down anymore – so, a check in the ‘plus’ column.

He turns, facing the entrance which, miraculously, he can still see light from. Another check.

Behind him he hears a heavy landing. A thud followed by the sound of more silt raining down on the floor. Finn whips around to see a smug Ren rolling his body up from a crouch, staring down at a softly glowing blue cube that lights his face from below. Metallic decorations wind around it.

It's beautiful.

Barely flicking his eyes to Finn, Ren seems to settle into himself. The box glows a little more brightly, but otherwise does nothing. Ren’s eyebrows knit as his eyes scrunch further closed. His jaw clenches. He angles his head a bit to the side, almost as if he’s listening to something.

But nothing happens.

Ren _growls,_ flicking his head sharply to one side – deeply considering the distance, for all Finn knew. Then his face twists back into view.

He assesses Finn, eyes suddenly large and searching. His lips twitch up.

“Yes... I think you’ll do quite nicely.”

Finn backs up a step, his hackles rising. “Oh no – Ohhh no. Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is _no._ ”

Ren’s lips twitch again. “Light side artifact,” he gestures with his hand, tossing it softly, barely, into the air before palming it again. “Isn’t my ‘ _Goddamned Shadow_ ' concerned with my finding a little bit more _Light_?”

Finn balks. “What do you want _me_ to do with it? Use it as a night light?”

Ren scoffs. “I think…” he considers, “I may be able to enter your mind. You’re so new to the Force, let’s call you… ‘Force neutral’. Still, Lighter than me.” He starts to stalk around Finn, analyzing him and wondering to himself, out loud. “If I could channel your Force signature and _amplify_ it… we might be able to open the this.” He twirls it between his two enormous hands.

Finn freaks out. Plain and simple. “Nah. Naaah. No thanks. Nope. Not even for a minute.” He takes his hand and stiffly gestures up towards his temple, “You think I want you in my head? I heard from _Poe_ what that’s like,” he hisses.

Ren reminds him simply, “It’s for _her_.”

Damn it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Getting out of the ruins is easier than getting in. Whatever landslide they’d set off ended up working in their favor.

They trudge back to the Falcon; all the while Ren rolls that… thing… between his hands. He’s thinking, and Finn wonders whether or not that’s a good thing. It was better when he was wounded. Finn hides a smirk.

He takes the lead once they get to familiar territory - if only to avoid wondering what thoughts were going through that man’s mind.

Suddenly, he thinks about what it will be like when Ren goes through _his_ mind.

He shivers.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s twilight by the time they get back to the ship. It’s been a full day. A full two days. More… a full _nine months_ since he first met The Girl in the forest. He's exhausted.

Kylo goes to the common area with Finn alongside him. Wordlessly, he rifles through the compartments, looking for something – anything – to eat. He settles for some dried meat while Finn unearths himself some fruit.

And alcohol.

Kylo twitches a brow in his direction, chewing deliberately and wondering what the plan might be here. The Holocron lay on the counter top as Finn pulls down a cup and starts to fill it a bit. He pauses… then fills it more. He sighs through his nose and then fills the whole damn glass.

Both of Kylo’s eyebrows arch up now. Finn looks at him, appraising. Then, with quick and angry movements, he grabs another cup and slams it down. Instead of the careful pour, Finn _sloshes_ alcohol into the cup, little drips plinking out, before slamming the bottle back down on the counter. He stares at Kylo. Like a challenge.

Which he accepts, slowly retrieving the cup from its place on the liquor-dappled surface.

Some etiquette passes between the two men as they lift their glasses and nod at each other, before each downs a significant amount... and both choke on it.

Finn is less graceful about it.

Eyeing each other warily, they make their way to the seating in tense silence. Kylo unclips the lightsaber from his belt and sets it down on the table alongside his ‘dinner’. He rolls the cup in his hands before drawing the liquid into his mouth.

Finn intones, “So - what's next? At least we can now say that you’ve technically wined and dined me before you go ahead and _rape_ my mind.”

Kylo sputters a small spray before composing himself and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth primly. “Not tonight.”

It's Finn’s turn to raise his eyebrows. 

“In the past three days,” he presses one hand onto his thigh, leaning into it while counting off on the fingers of his other hand, “My mother died. Rey almost killed me. I saw my dead father. I threw my lightsaber into the _ocean._ ”

Which he more-than-mildly regrets, mind you.

“She stole my ship – after _blowing up_ the other one, so I had to crawl through the remains of the Death Star to find _anything_ that wouldn’t kill me mid-flight. I had to find my way to an uncharted planet - with no hyperspace routes - on memory and the Force alone. I fought – and _killed_ – all of my Knights, who had conveniently betrayed me.” His voice was rising now. His expression turning from exasperated to infuriated.

“All this only to be brought to my _knees_ beside Rey as Palpatine sucked out our _lifeforce_ to regenerate his own body. After which, I was flung down a hole where I hit all the pointy walls of that shitty drop until I had to FREEZE myself in the air to avoid going ‘splat’.”

This is more words at one go than he'd uttered in years and he finds himself breathless. It's like someone popped the cork out, and now sentences are pouring everywhere.

He huffs, flabbergasted at himself, before continuing. He's out of fingers at this point, so he just starts gesturing vehemently. “With a broken leg and bloody _everything else_ , I climbed to the top – all while feeling the Force roil around me as the Jedi poured their power into Rey. And I could do _nothing!_ Even when I could feel it was _too much_. Then, at the top, I had to crawl to the dead body of the woman I love. Who I. Couldn’t. Save.”

He shoves himself backwards against the couch, grabbing his drink and taking a large swig for good measure. Finn watches him swish it between his cheeks before downing it and taking another gulp. Kylo knows his cheeks are burning – but he doesn’t know whether it’s the cocktail or the confession.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Kylo feels the liquor-induced fuzziness start to seep in. A rare indulgence.

Finn takes a slow pull from his drink, pushing his fruit to the side. His voice is bitter as he bites out, “I don’t know how Rey could love someone like you.”

Kylo stares into his cup, rolling it back and forth between his fingers. “I’m not sure she does.”

Finn’s eyebrows knit as he regards him.

“Not really. She isn’t in love with _me,_ but some imaginary _version_ of me. Some fantasy of ‘Ben Solo’.”

He huffs, “She doesn’t even know who ‘Ben Solo’ was. She’s crafted this image of a young Jedi in her mind. Someone _pure…_ but I was _never_ pure. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes her mistake.” He drinks once more, his ears burning. Why is talking about this? Especially with this man of all people. Damned alcohol.

Kylo tips his head back against the seat. “But, don’t misunderstand. I’ll take what I can get until she comes to her senses. And I’ll be grateful. Even after it’s all over.”

Furious, Finn’s eyes slide to the table, setting his drink down gently. “You don’t love her, either.”

Kylo scoffs, “And what would you know about what I do and don’t feel?”

“Rey told me about it. The Dyad thing. That you two ‘share a soul’ or whatever. But… you barely know each other.”

Kylo nestles back into his seat, “I’ve seen into her mind.” A pause. “And she’s seen into mine.”

Finn counters, “What’s her favorite food? …What’s her favorite kind of ship to work on? What did she spend her time doing on Jakku, other than doing anything she could to _eat?”_

His point had come across, but the trooper kept going anyway. “What about how she learned to read? How about how she learned how to fly a ship? Learned how to _fight?”_ Finn leans in on his knees, angled towards Kylo, sneering. “What’s her favorite color? Why does she like flowers so much?”

Finn’s questions go on and on. They eclipse the list that Kylo had just rattled of, in sheer number alone.

Kylo _could_ feel humbled right about now, but something feels off. He tilts his chin down slightly. “So, _you_ know the answers to all of these questions, then?”

It’s Finn’s turn to feel his face flush. It's hidden by his complexion, but Kylo still knows.

He sits himself up properly. “Do you?” he persists, backing Finn into a proverbial corner.

The man evades, looking away – staring off to the far wall with a closed look. In that moment, Kylo lifts his hand promptly. Fingers arching out, unseen, to hover near Finn’s temple. By the time Finn sees it, it’s too late. Kylo's _inside_.

There is a beat as he stares, seeing nothing. Feeling around. “You’re are insinuating that you know more about her than you really do... but that part was obvious.” He smirks. Finn is frozen, staring fearfully in front of him as Kylo keeps _rooting_. “The things you’re mentioning are things that you’d like to know about her – but you fear you never will.”

Kylo murmurs, sympathetically, “You think I’ll take her away – or that I won’t succeed.” He pauses. “You love her. Since the moment you met her – you wanted to know if she had someone else. She didn’t, and so you followed her across the galaxy. Now, here, you’ve watched her. I see how you look at her – lying in the med-bay,” Kylo seethes, “and the _thoughts_ you have about her when you're alone at night.”

Angry, now, Kylo goes deeper.

Unlike the prodigy Rey, Finn can’t fight him off.

“You did well in the First Order. Scored high as a cadet. Your friends called you Eight-Seven. Ah, so that’s where that came from.”

Finn is starting to twitch now. His eyes bulge as he makes small grunting noises.

“You saved _bats_ from extermination inside the ship,” Kylo almost smiles, “and you kept breaking protocol in drills to save one of the other troopers. He was – killed in Tuanul on Jakku. He ran his bloody hand over your mask. That's the night you refused to fight. That is the night I _saw_ you… that I _felt_ you.”

And Kylo pulls back. “Right before you decided to defect,” he finishes softly. His hand retracts and Finn doubles over, catching his breath.

Finn’s movements are lighting quick. He comes at Kylo, the lightsaber from the table quickly ignited in hand. Kylo heaves back just in time to miss Finn’s first swipe.

This can only go badly.

Kylo _rolls_ his body to the side to avoid another haphazard lash with the saber’s steady hot blade. He doesn’t have the energy for this. He reaches his hand out in a flash, finds that special thread - and _clips_ Finn’s consciousness, catching him roughly. The disengaged saber clatters uselessly to the floor. 

He sighs.

He’s going to hear about this in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A Dream.

Kylo opens his eyes with the warm Jakku sun shining brightly on him. The sand is soft and accommodating of his, admittedly, overlarge frame. It cushions him.

Rey is staring down at him with a sarcastic expression. “Tough day?”

He steeples his fingers over his brow. “You're angry.”

“About?”

“Finn. You know what I just did to him, don’t you?”

She’s quiet and he dares not look her in the face. He can tell she’s turned her body to face towards him. “And why did you do it, then? If you _knew_ it would make me angry?” There is an edge in her voice. This could escalate if he says the wrong thing.

So he decides to say nothing.

“This is the time where you try to become a better communicator, Ben,” irritation drips from her lips.

He sighs. “That’s it.” He enunciates the ‘t’ sound. “That’s it, right there... ‘Ben’.”

He opens his eyes now, tipping his head in her direction, but keeping his place in this soft sand. “Who do you think I am, Rey?”

She doesn’t say anything.

He looks away, up towards the sky and to the sun that never burns his eyes. Ire runs through his voice like a crackle of lightning “You can’t just _do_ that. You can’t just pretend that I’m someone else. That I haven’t done the things I’ve done. That I don’t _feel_ the way I do. The pull to the Dark. The violence. It's part of me. You can’t just carve it out. You can't just pretend it's not there. You can’t just want me for my _potential._ ”

His temper fades as soon as it flares. His voice is now mournful. “I’m only ever wanted for my _potential._ Either to keep me from reaching it – or to use me to exploit it. Everyone pretends that I am who _they want me to be_. No one cares to see who I really am. Both sides. All sides. No one ever just wants… me.” His eyes are moist but, as always, he holds himself steady.

There is a soft pause. Her voice is gentle. “You’re still afraid.”

The sand prickles his back as he begins to sweat. He softly admits, “I’ve _always_ been afraid.”

Her cool hand is on his forehead. He closes his eyes as her fingers cascade through his hair, a sigh sifting through his lips.

“I’ve been in your mind – but Finn is right when he says that I don’t really _know_ you.”

Her grin is audible, “In the biblical sense?”

He snorts, lips twitching before he continues in seriousness. His voice is dulcet. Pleading. “What’s your favorite color, Rey?”

Her huff of amusement unearths a small flare of insecurity in him. But, then hears her smile from behind his closed eyes and he settles again. Her fingers continue to stroke his tresses back over the crown of his head. “I bet yours is black.”

Kylo feels… shy as he opens his eyes to look at her. Her hair hangs loose. He loves it like this. She’s half shaded in the sun, but he still finds her to be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “No – actually… it’s blue.”

Her eyes question him.

“When I was young – we’d go on leave together... as a family. It was so rare to have us all together. No nannies. No droids. No Senate. No smuggling. Just _them_ and me.” His eyes turn back towards the sky. “There was a field and we’d bring lunch there, to eat on the grass.” Her fingers keep stroking, calming him, “and there were blue butterflies. They would migrate in the spring, just around when we would visit, and the field would flood with them. It was so blue, it looked like the sky was reflected off the ground.”

Softly, “What are butterflies?”

He smiles. “They’re delicate things. Fragile. Small. The oil from your fingertip would be enough to render their fragile wings useless. They die so _easily_ …” he looks at her again, “so easily that seeing them all _alive_ together was something like a miracle.”

He takes a breath for courage and lifts his hand up towards her. He spreads his fingers and combs them through her hair, just once, strands cascading through his digits as gravity takes them. “Your turn.”

She looks faraway – eyes to the distance. “I love blue, too. Dark blue. Like the ocean in Ahch-to. It was the first time I’d ever seen _so much_ water. Water is _life_ , Ben. I spent so much of my life nearly dying of thirst. There was never enough. Until I met your father… and left this place.” She gestures around with her gaze, hand still in his hair. 

His expression is soft, “What are your favorite memories of water?”

A smile breaks on her face that lights up his insides. “The Resistance had _so much_ of it. All I could drink. And more! Enough to put it on my face and feel how cold it was. How wonderful the air felt on my skin it as it dried. I remember rain. Cold and – amazing. I just wanted to stand in it and open my mouth to the sky.”

“And…?” he intones.

She furrows her eyebrows. “And?”

“Not when we fought? The last time.” His lips quirk.

“Oh no – definitely not then. That was miserable.”

He smiles his dimpled, crooked smile as he looks away. He wants to live in this moment.

“I’ll show you more, if you want. I could show you _my_ memories of water.”

Her smile fades into an expression of reverence. She lifts his hand and presses his palm to her cheek. His heart thrums; he swears he can feel it beating in every vein of his body. She turns her face, closes her eyes and presses her lips to his pulse point.

“I’d like to know you, too, you know. The real you. All parts.” She says, voice near a whisper.

Another miracle, he thinks.

And he wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my username is NixComix and I have a... writing problem. It's been 2 days since my last chapter post. 
> 
> Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned against all fanfic writers. I have not backlogged my work, so I can still post on Sundays, even if I get too busy to write a new chapter during that week. 
> 
> I pray for inspiration, strength, caffeine, forgiveness, readership, kudos and comments. Also - to have people share this with their friends and fan groups. Because I'm an obnoxious self promoter like that.
> 
> Xs and Ohs, my readers. <3


	6. Form VI - Niman

  
  


\----------------------

Finn wakes up with a start – sitting upright fast enough to make his head _spin._ He’s on one of the couches in the common room of the Falcon, last night’s fruit wilted on the table beside him. And there’s still the half-full glass of rotgut. His eyes narrow and his fingers find their way against his scalp, pressing.

He remembers that vicious Darksider rooting through his mind. He then recalls bravely – righteously – attacking him with his own weapon.

Though Finn realized that his chances of success were _nil_ in that regard.

Then he remembers having his mind _shut off_ – and a dark desire for retaliation blossoms. He flicks his eyes around him. 

Sadly, the lightsaber had been removed from his immediate vicinity. Smart. He wonders if that _bastard_ had taken the one that he'd left with Rey, as well.

If not…

He speaks aloud to himself, scrubbing his palms over his eyes to scrape the sleep out of them. “No, wait – calm down. Rey needs you _Light_ buddy. Be Light. Be calm. Whatever he did to you wasn’t as bad as what he did to Poe.”

Poe. He gets melancholic.

Eyeing the liquor glass, he snatches it and swallows the rest in one go. It still burns. He eyes the glass warily, wondering what-in-the-hell kind of firewater it was. Because, whatever it was, it was _trash…_

Working to center himself, he tries to remember what Rey told him about meditating. Feeling the life (and death) around you. Being one with everything. He gets onto the floor and folds himself into _something_ that _might_ be a meditation pose. Basically, it’s just sitting on the floor, right?

Okay, let’s try that, then.

He breathes in and out. Slowly, loudly, through his nose.

In… and out. Again, and again. Chest rising and falling. Getting into a rhythmic cadence. In and out.

 _Innnnn_ and…

Finn curses and flings his legs out in his irritation. It’s not working. He can’t feel _anything._ Except _pissed off._

“I was horrible at it when I first started.” Finn twists his body in a rapid jerk towards the voice of Kylo Ren. The man is quick to clarify, “Meditating...”

Finn’s body is a taut wire. Rigid. Kylo stares at him haughtily. Their staring match lasts for a bit before Ren finally lowers his eyes. His voice, to his credit, holds a slightly remorseful tone. “It won’t be like that when we open the Holocron. I’ll be gentler next time.”

Finn grits out, “NEXT time?”

Ren’s eyes harden. His tone is soft, but condescending. As if speaking to a child. “Don’t act like you didn’t push me into doing it.”

Finn jumps to his feet and clenches his fists by his side. “You are Never allowed in my head again. You took more than you had to, _and you know it._ ”

Kylo’s smirk darkens and he steps closer. “Are you talking about taking your past? Or do you mean your little _fantasies_?”

Finn’s eyes widen. Guilt washes over him. Shame. He casts his eyes to the ground. “I never would do anything to hurt her. Or take advantage of her. _Never_.”

Now it's Ren who looks down. He grimaces, knitting his fingers through his hair and tugging before turning his back on Finn. The air is heavy between them – and then the Darksider drives his fist into the paneling.

More than once.

Ren takes a deep breath, leaning his head against the wall, before saying in an even voice, “I know you wouldn’t.” He dangles his bloodied fist as if he doesn't even feel it.

Changing the subject, Ren gently adds, “Keep practicing the meditation. We’ll need to strengthen your connection to the Force if we’re going to get that Holocron open.”

“Not if; when.”

Ren purses his lips slightly and nods. “I’ll teach you some of the Jedi methods, then. In Skywalker’s Temple – all the younglings would start with-“

“No.” Finn cut him off. “Not from you.”

Ren looks at him with a flicker of something close to hurt in his eyes, before a dark sort of amusement sets in. Finn has no idea what to do – but he’ll do it alone before he dares learn anything from _him_.

A familiar voice echoes in his mind.

_I’ll help you._

Finn’s chest floods with hope. Ren looks at him with wonderment written all over his face, as if he’d heard her somehow. His eyes fall to the floor and Finn sees him set his jaw. Soundlessly, he turns and begins to walk deeper into the ship.

“Where are _you_ going?”

“Giving you and Rey your... privacy.” He turns over his shoulder and appraises Finn with a Supreme Leader’s gaze. “Get to work. We'll handle this matter sooner than later.”

Finn listens to his fast-paced stomps as they echo further and further away from him. He looks at the chronometer on the wall – Chewie's shift should technically be over. Maybe Ren should get one. He’d proven he could fly the Falcon on his own, after his stunt near those ruins – but Finn wondered if Chewie would risk leaving him alone in the cockpit for long.

On cue, he hears a warbled cry, prolonged crashing sounds - and then more stomping. He emits an abrupt laugh and can almost _feel_ Rey do the same. It’s like there is a segregated space in his mind, apart from his own, just for her. A similar spot in his chest. With one, he hears her words. With the other, he just _feels_ her…

Aloud, as he’s not sure how else to start, “Rey?”

He doesn’t hear anything as much as he fills with some feeling of _acknowledgement._ He decides a different approach and simply _thinks_ her name inside his head.

Nothing.

That’s probably a Very. Good. Thing.

“Rey, how do we do this?”

Her responses aren’t in full sentences. They’re a mixture of feelings and words. It reminds him of trying to decipher Shyriiwook whenever Chewbacca was howling something inarticulate at him.

_Books. Get the Books._

He has a picture in his mind of where they must be. Fumbling his way to it, he opens a drawer in the common room filled with texts. Some are ancient, by the look of them. They smell something like dust and saltwater. His fingers pass quickly over the spines…

_That one._

He obliges. Plucking it from the rest of the stack, he opens it to the first page.

It’s completely indecipherable. Anticipation that he didn’t even know had been building deflates in his chest as he coughs out an expression of incredulity, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as his head shakes back and forth a bit.

“Well that’s _special,_ isn’t it?” He rolls his eyes to the ceiling with a laugh. For lack of anything better to do, he flicks in a few pages, admiring the paper in his hands.

He came to a drawing. Pretty, really – artful. It showed a body in a meditative pose. Lines seemed to be drawn from one area of the body to another – looking something like a flow of energy, maybe? He looks at it skeptically before his mind pulses,

_Try._

His eyes go to the ceiling once more, “Why? Why couldn’t I have had a simple life? I would have done a great job with… sheep. Yes, sheep.” He nods firmly.

Mirth blooms in his chest. He recognizes this feeling. This is how she must feel before she laughs. A smile breaks on his face as he leans his head shyly to the side. Eyeing the book one more time, he schools his expression into a serious one and gets into position, mirroring what he sees in the book.

“Let’s do this, then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kicked off the Gods damned _bridge._

In his own ship – his own _fleet_ of ships – everything sentient would _marvel_ at him when he arrived. They’d bustle about their work, making sure not to catch his eye – though he knew that his very presence gnawed at the backs of their consciousness. His every word – every _whim_ – would be attended to. And if he wanted to fly the ship, _he flew the fucking -ship-!_

 _That's_ how it should feel when he mounts a bridge.

Not like he’s some damn infestation to be eliminated.

Gripping his fists, he wonders if it’s worth going back to fight just because he _can._ He feels the broken skin over his knuckles light up in pain. He needs to _do_ something, quickly, before he loses it again.

Training. Forms.

That will take the edge off.

He pulls at his rigid and bloody shirt and makes it to the ‘fresher, dumping it into the laundry droid. He should have done that days ago. Looking down, the pants will have to wait. Not that he was ashamed of his body – in fact, nudity has its uses. It’s distracting to your enemy if you’re… _out and about_ … during a fight, so to speak. Don’t ask him how he knows.

Apparently, having just a bare chest is also distracting enough to take the edge off of angry conversations with Rey, as well. He smirks and tucks that memory back into his mind.

Saber resting in hand, he winds his way through the ship into the med bay. He’ll only stop for a minute.

She’s laying there, as Finn had left her. Slightly bloodied blankets had been tugged up to her waist and tucked in tightly. Military style. Her arms had been laid over her chest, fingers wrapped around her saber in a clear funerary homage. He tries to assess the situation with a battle-trained eye and – from that perspective – everything seems to be in order.

Except it’s not.

Except, when he sees her, a horrible feeling wells in his chest. He thinks of how he wept into her body on Exegol’s stone floor… and the desperate urge to do it again rises bile in his throat.

He bites his lips slightly before pulling the secondary cot over to her. This one, _he’d_ bled all over. He made a mental note that this should be the next thing to make its way to the laundry droid.

He perches atop it, contemplating. Looking at her, he can’t help but think of her crumbled, weeping face in the harshness of frigid waves as she channeled her Light to heal him. To _save_ him.

Without realizing it, he’s doing it again - stroking from his forehead, above his eyebrow – down his cheek, neck and shoulder, finally passing his whole palm over where his once-scar had twirled before reaching its end. His bare chest is warm. Realizing what he’s doing, he immediately halts, ashamed by his sentimentality.

He rolls his eyes and huffs a short staccato laugh, “I’m here with you… while you’re _there_ with him. Fitting – with the Light one when it’s day… and with the Dark one at night.” He leans over her, slightly.

He repeats his motion from their dream, passing his fingers through loose tendrils of hair. “It's just like a fairytale.”

His bemused expression gives way to one of sorrow. Sorrow, but determination. “I’m going to do this, you know.” Firmly, no doubt in his voice. As if it were only a matter of time. “You told me to fix you – and that is exactly what I’m going to do.”

He leans in and hovers his breath over her ear, intimately. “Believe in me.”

He feels his chest swell with a feeling that isn’t his. Strong and meaningful. He can’t put a name to it – but he feels it – and he knows it came from her.

Quirking his mouth, he stands, moving towards his training… though the violence in him has been all but swept away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s taking too long.

Finn ushers Ren out of his mind, which he is getting marginally better at thank-you-very-much. He knows it’s only because the Darksider leaves willingly, though. If he didn’t – well, then he wouldn’t.

Finn pants, sweating. It doesn’t hurt – but it’s so _draining_. Ren is basically siphoning all the energy out of him. Taking his Light… and, deep within him, Rey’s Light.

Still, the Holocron lies between them, uncompelled to do anything other than exist.

Ren sighs and shoves his hair out of his face with one hand. Chewie sits behind them, gnawing on his meal and watching them like a holoprogram.

Finn braces himself and tries to work into a stand – but he’s immediately overcome with lightheadedness, knees crumpling. Much to his distaste, Ren catches and steadies him for a beat before righting him. Once he confirms that the ex-stormtrooper is properly pointed in the right direction, he releases him to his own devices.

“I don’t understand…” Finn pants and gestures, leaning over into a high squat with his hands to his knees, “how this doesn’t affect you.”

Ren sidesteps Chewie, doing a fairly good job of pretending he doesn’t exist. The Wookie, for his part, unabashedly _stares_. Finn doubts Ren finds it as intimidating as Chewie intends… but he’d be shocked if the man wasn’t at least a little irritated.

Finn huffs again, eyes swimming, looking at the floor before using his palms to shove his body back into a wobbly stand. Something cold touches his arm and he flinches.

Ren’s holding out a cup of water to him and gestures to the set of chairs by the Dejarik board with a slight nod of his head and a tense set to his mouth. Finn hits the seat heavily and takes what’s offered. He’s too tired to posture right now. The man in black sits as well, the game remaining switched off between them. His eyes are unfocused and his attention seems turned inward. He steeples his fingers and leans his elbows onto his knees, fingers propping up his chin.

Finn stares at him, mouth taut with an eyebrow quirked. He catches Ren’s sight and shrugs his shoulders exasperatedly. “What now?”

Chewie starts barking out words Finn can’t understand, gesturing in the air.

Ren, still hunched over, let’s out a curt nod – to which Chewie makes a gesture that looks something like either an insult or a threat before leaving with his dinner. Ren ignores this, as well.

Finn stares out towards the exit, “What did he say?”

“You don’t know?”

“I’m _learning_.”

Letting out a sigh, Ren sits back. “He’s going to start doing supply runs again.” He shrugs. “He’s never been someone who can just sit still in one place for too long.” His voice sounds distant and his expression gets slightly sarcastic. “He and Han Solo were compatible in that way.”

Finn bristles, but decided to let it go. For now.

“This is the third try with that _thing_ \- that,” he fans his hand out, as if searching for words, “ _ghost-cube_.” He tips his head in a gesture of hostility. “So, what are you doing wrong?”

Ren snorts, still looking at nothing.

“What?”

“I’d say it’s both of us that are causing the problem. I don’t have enough of what I need on my own – and you don’t have enough to make up the difference. You’ve only just barely started to feel the Force – you’re not connected enough. You can’t take from the Light around you, and I can’t pour from an empty cup.”

Finn would storm off, if only he had the strength to stand.

“What does _she_ say about this?”

Finn shuts his eyes. “Don’t try to talk to her through me.”

Ren gets up again, but Finn doesn’t bother looking. He hears clattering, drawers opening and shutting before those heavy footsteps make their way back over.

Finn opens one eye to see him set down a plate of food for each of them. “What’s that for?”

Ren doesn’t bother to respond before he starts in on his own plate. Surprisingly, he’s quite well mannered – primly setting about his food in an efficient and aesthetic way. Before Finn slips his eyes closed again he thinks, _He eats like a debutante._

Breaking the silence and shocking Finn out of a doze, Ren collects his dirty dishes together with heavy clacks and stares at him hard. “Meditation is one way to connect – but, you’re a soldier. Let’s try other ways.” He gathers his remains and begins to stand, gaining that authoritative stance, nodding to Finn’s plate. “Eat. Sleep. I assume you have quarters here?” He casts his eyes about before locking back onto Finn. “Meet me in the larger of the two cargo holds at 0700.”

“Where will you sleep?”

Ren pauses, sifting his dishes into the cleaner. For a minute, Finn doesn’t think he’ll answer. Softly, though, he says, “The second cot in the med-bay.”

And before Finn can raise hell, he’s already slipped away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Dream.

She’s standing in front of him, her hair back up in her trademark style. She’s holding her quarterstaff and looks ready for something.

He looks back at her AT-AT and then to the empty wasteland around them. He drawls, “Are we waiting for Raiders?” gesturing at her weapon.

She smirks and twirls it around herself, showing off. He's clearly impressed, and that must be the reaction she was looking for. He hunches slightly into a fighting stance, missing his saber, but pulling his lips up in a quirk. “Are we going to play?”

She scoffs, “Gods no.”

He deflates. “Shame. I’d like to go up against you without having to worry about dying for once.”

She sniggers quietly. “You said you’d show me your memories. I don’t really know what that means… or looks like. I’m just – ready to go, I guess.” She twirls her quarterstaff again, nervously.

He deadpans, “I don’t think you’ll be needing that.”

Her face turns stoic, save her elevated eyebrows and her hands tighten their grip. His lips quirk up in amusement. He likes her stubborn, feisty side.

The moment inspires a swell of courage and he takes slow steps towards her.

He dwarfs her, in all honesty, but she doesn’t back away. He takes her free hand and uses it to tug her infinitesimally nearer. Slowly, he leans his face down until it’s just beside hers; his lips now hovering over the shell of her ear… close enough that his breath falls on her. Close enough that he can breathe her in.

His voice is silken, “Close your eyes.”

He steps back and, as a show of faith, he closes his own.

He knows when she’s ready because, at that point, the fabric of reality ripples around him. He thinks back, pulling out a distant thought. Shaping it, carving out all the details… blessing it. She must have opened her eyes before he does; her gasp is one of wonder as the final touches solidify around her. His eyes are still squinted in effort when her hand flashes out and grasps his.

A whispered, “Ben…” is all she can manage.

The sound of children laughing fills the space between them. He opens his eyes to see them scurry about like rabbits, deeply entrenched in some sort of game. It has just finished raining and the moisture still clings to the air. Her eyes are wide as her gaze locks to the sky and takes in… her first rainbow.

“How is that happening?"

His heart expands. He laces his fingers through hers, “The sunlight refracts through the moisture in the air. The droplets catch the light… and makes it _blossom."_

She is breathless. He takes his gaze from the sky to watch her reaction. Her fingers _squeeze_ his. “This is…”

He tsks, shushing her. “You’re missing the best part…”

Children burst between them, splitting them away from each other. Their giggles and gasps are infectious, and he sees Rey succumb to their charm. They chase one another, leaping and jumping and

SPLASHING! Right into a puddle of water gathered under their feet.

Rey’s hands raise to elbow level as she looks down in wonder. Pools of water litter the surface of the ground, reflecting the sky, the sun, and the _color._ They’re barefoot, standing so their toes are covered. The children continue to dance alongside the ripples, plunging their feet in and out of the crisp, life giving, water.

Kylo is as surprised as she is when a small boy STOMPS beside them, spluttering wetness all along their legs. His reaction is a bit annoyed – but Rey is _transfigured_.

“Oi! You!” Her grin has never been so wide. She twirls the quarterstaff behind her into some sort of fashioned hilt and takes off after the child. Others take up the cause until, all around him, children (and Rey) are laughing, chasing and pounding their feet into the water. 

Rey’s clothes are soaked and her hair drags with moisture, but that doesn’t phase her in the slightest. She’s lithe – twisting between grasping, playful hands before launching her body into the air and landing in a crouched _thwomp_ that showers all around her. Her grin is as mischievous as it is jubilant.

Kylo tucks his grin behind his hand and backs slowly out of the fray, more than content to watch Rey relive his first puddlefight in his hometown of Hanna City on Chandrila.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn enters the room - after 0700, mind you - with Rey’s saber... the _legacy_ saber, in-hand.

Infuriating. Why do Lightsiders keep getting to use Darth Vader’s weapon? He has choice words for his exact feelings on that. 

Still – his mother’s saber feels good in his hands. Soothing. Filled with… love, somehow.

“Let me make this clear – you are not teaching me _anything._ I’m here to train myself, and if you happen to be here when I do it, then fine.”

Kylo knows that sentence is secretly followed with something like, 'And if I happen to see something _cool_ – well, there’s just no harm in that either, is there?'

It makes him bark out a short scoff. “You practice that little speech all night?” 

If Finn’s not following in his footsteps, then that actually makes this a whole lot easier. He decides to start his practice with Form V – Shien, which focuses on strength and attack moves.

His body goes through the normal rhythms as he thrusts, parries, jumps, swings, slashes and dodges imaginary partners. With each set, he pushes himself to go quicker and harder. He knows that he’s caught Finn’s eye – and that’s exactly what he wanted.

Shien is no good if they want Finn to go Light. Too aggressive. Too power-based. No – he needs to start simple, but the man’s pride would never let him admit that. So, instead, Kylo is showing off.

He’s specifically picking intense moves that require years of study and practice, trying to impress upon Finn the differences between their skill levels. Make the man sweat a little. Feel daunted by the task of approaching the Force, castrated, while he’s in the presence of a true Master.

And he wants Finn to be inspired a bit, if he’s being honest with himself. Feeling haughty now, he considers that he _should_ feel inspired. Most people who see Kylo work his blade like this don’t live to tell the tale.

Light, Kylo – go Light.

He feels Finn’s wavelength… and then sends out a message to Rey.

_Make him listen. Make him -see-._

With a snap gesture, he clicks his body straight, saber parallel to the line of his eyes, and _switches_ into Form II – Makashi. The technique is easier, one of the first he’d learned as a Padawan. It’s focused specifically on dueling. Terrible choice for when there were blasters around, but a foundational and valuable learning stance none-the-less.

It’s also slow enough to allow for some battle meditation. Like when Rey first channeled the Force to overtake him.

Kylo flicks his saber to the side and faces Finn. Staring steadily to make his intentions clear.

The trooper’s eyes go wide as he ignites his blade, holding it vertical next to his face in a defensive stance.

Kylo nods before taking a deliberate _strike_ at him. Slow. Obvious. As if to say – _Begin._

Finn parries, but his nerves are up and he’s sloppy. He’s not quite sure what’s happening. Kylo can feel him fraying around the edges as fear starts to set in. The man should have realized already that, if Kylo wanted him dead – he'd simply be _dead_.

How to teach without teaching?

“She beat me on Starkiller, you know.” Kylo’s blade strikes upward, glancing off Finn’s and knocking him off balance.

Finn overcorrects, keeping himself _wide open_ the whole time. “Yeah. Gave you a pretty keepsake on your face from what I hear.”

Kylo smirks. Let’s get him to run his blade as good as he runs his mouth. The Darksider almost purrs, “Didn’t you ever wonder how she did it?” His blade hums sideways, which Finn was ready for. Diagonal slash, which he wasn’t. Finn was starting to sweat… which was laughable, really. How did these Resistance rabble win any skirmishes?

Ah, he thinks back to Finn’s memories. _This_ man’s weapon was a blaster. He's a marksman.

Kylo keeps Finn on his toes but refuses to overpower him...

...Which wears on Finn’s patience. “Oh, that’s right. Was it because you were bleeding out?” Finn grins, “From when Chewie shot you? After you…”

Kylo feels it – but Finn feels it _harder_ as Rey does something within him. Finn grunts and his knees hit steel. Kylo steps back and circles. Guess she’d successfully ended that thread of the conversation.

He's happy to let it lie.

Finn’s eyes are like acid on his, but Kylo merely gestures with his saber. _Get up._ He twirls it impatiently as the man rises and retakes a stance.

This time Finn tries to go on the offensive, but his slashes are over-exaggerated. Inefficient. Kylo doesn’t even bother parrying with his blade. He just bobs and weaves out of the way.

“You’re not wrong.” Kylo intones. “But that’s not what I was getting at.”

Finn’s frustration level is getting too high. Light, Kylo – keep it Light.

He brings his blade up and allows Finn to get him into a saber lock. The sparks it causes reflect prisms around the room, “She had me beat the moment she closed her eyes,” and Kylo shoves Finn’s blade up and wide before backing out of striking range again.

Finn says nothing, but his mind reads as a glaring question mark. He engages again, but more carefully. Strikes more tentative and angled better.

Good.

Teaching without teaching.

Letting this small man keep his small pride.

“She closed her eyes and opened herself to the Force.” Finn’s blade connects well against Kylo’s, finally, with a bit more strength behind it.

“What does that even _mean?”_ Finn groans.

“I know. Sounds like nonsense, doesn’t it?” Kylo smirks, “Until you’ve _done_ it. When that happens, it clicks.” He dances away from Finn’s swipes as they get too erratic again, matching his temper.

When Finn settles, Kylo engages him once more, pushing him back into defensive. He makes all the ‘easy’ strokes in a predictable pattern. Whether or not Finn's consciously aware of it or not, he's expecting the blows and defending better against them during each wave.

“And, once she did it – she flooded with power.”

Finn anticipates a stroke and improvises around it, breaking through the pattern into an offensive move that makes Kylo switch up his approach.

They repeat this, wordlessly, until Finn is raining sweat. He _is_ learning, Kylo gives him that. Slower than he would like – but the key thing is happening. Finn is falling in lock step with Kylo. The patterns are simple, repetitive, but Finn is following them. Defending better against them, and venturing out.

Kylo sends out again, _Rey, tell him about what you felt. Tell him about what you did. He’s going to need you. Very soon._

And with that, play time was over. Kylo shifts positions again to resume his more aggressive stance and flings his blade heavily at Finn, who barely catches it. Kylo pays it no mind as he moves into lunges, each punctuated by a heavy-handed strike, pushing Finn back towards a stack of crates filled with God-knows-what.

Finn’s moves are getting sloppy again and that hum that lives between their minds is now erratic. His fear is ratcheting back up as Kylo’s saber comes in _again_ and _again._

At last, here it comes. Let’s see if this works… _Rey – are you ready?_

Whether she was there or not – now was the time. Kylo brings Finn into another blade lock, pressing the glow so close to his brown skin that it lit up sheer blue. It took no effort. Kylo spits harshly, “Show me you can do it, too.”

Finn’s eyes move from the place where the sabers caught to look into his. Kylo sees fear there… and then he hears whispers.

Yes. Good girl.

The fear is shortly displaced by determination as Finn clenches his jaw…

Closes his eyes…

And opens himself up to the Force.

Lesson One.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo and Finn sit in front of each other in meditative poses. Their knees nearly touch. Between them lies their Holocron.

Finn’s mind and heart are open. He channels what he has of himself, as well as what he can draw from Rey’s still-bright Force signature. Kylo serves as a lens. He gathers that power, adds it to his own, and focuses it down and _in_. It’s simple, once there is enough Light to do it with. It barely takes a moment. Nearly anticlimactic.

With a small sigh, the Holocron opens.

When Kylo withdraws from his mind, Finn still feels whole. Replenished by the Force around him. Rey still firm and proud within him.

A glow flickers from the cube, projecting a man. His robes are overlarge and hide his frame. His hair is messy and seems almost matted in places. His eyes are expressive and his smile familiar, somehow.

“On behalf of the Jedi Council, we would like to leave behind teachings to future generations of Force-users.” The man’s voice is warm.

“Violence should be avoided whenever possible, as compassion for all is the true nature of the Jedi. If there must be fighting, however, I’d like to show you a more…” he smirks, “ _diplomatic_ form of saber skills. This style is a more balanced form, taking from all others – but without any particular focus on power and aggression. I present to you Form VI – Niman.”

Finn, and Rey within him, sit in rapt attention to the words and body language of the projected man – but Kylo stops listening.

He knows Niman. Quite well. It was his favorite Form as an apprentice. From that perspective, the cube is a waste of time.

Still, Kylo’s foundation shakes. The world zeroes in on the man’s face before him. Kylo has studied history in-depth and he knows this face.

This was the face of Anakin Skywalker.

Darth Vader.

_Grandfather…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG CHAPTER! But - I love it! 
> 
> Did y'all like the rainbow connection? <3 (The lovers, the dreamers and meeeeee...)


	7. Sweet Boy

This chapter had art by [Darth Maddie](https://darthmaddiesartblog.tumblr.com/) but I'm making sure that I get permissions to use the artwork before leaving it here. :)

_________________

Examining himself in the ‘fresher mirror, Kylo’s thoughts are trained solely on Anakin Skywalker.

Darth Vader.

His whole _family_ had kept the Skywalker lineage a secret. Even from him. Once it was leaked that ‘Darth Vader was the father of the Rebel Hero Leia Organa’, her senate career was over. Unequivocally.

And how did he find out about this ‘terrible’ news?

Not from her. Not from his father. Not from _Skywalker..._

He learned it from the others at the Temple. From the Padawans and young Knights who had finally drawn a line from 'Ben Solo’s sullen demeanor' and 'penchant for losing control' to a... ‘Reason Why’. Then the whispers, which already existed, exploded. That’s when his true isolation began.

It was only once he ran to Snoke that he began to understand that he didn’t have to hide it, anymore. The Darkness threaded through his lineage. He wasn’t an abomination. He was, as Snoke said, a _gift._

It was – a relief. More than just a comfort, it was _everything._ It _explained_ everything. All his raw talent. All the feelings that came with it. The conflict. The reason why he couldn’t detach, as other Jedi did. Why his blood ran so _hot._

And it finally gave him purpose. A direction. A person to emulate…

… If he couldn’t be the Smuggler, then maybe…

He’d read the details of his Grandfather’s exploits as Darth Vader with a dark fascination. The power. The strength of will. He wasn’t stupid enough to not realize that it had all been colored and embellished by the record keepers of the Empire, but – even if only a percentage of it was true… his mind boggled.

He was honored, for the first time, to have Skywalker blood. If his Grandfather were alive, maybe someone would finally understand him.

And then, Snoke found the Mask. The mask he worshiped, even after he knew the voices came from Palpatine. Because it was no longer about what it _said_. It was about what it represented. What it _meant._

But who was Anakin Skywalker?

He was sure he only had half truth versions of that, as well. A fatherless child sired by the Force itself. A slave, so talented and flooded with Midichlorians that he caught the eye of Master Qui-Gon Jinn; a Legend in Jedi history.

As the Clone Wars wound tightly into the rise of the Imperial Era, the Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker became disillusioned with the Order for their hypocrisy. His Grandfather had to save the life of the weaponless Emperor from the murdering hands of the Jedi Council.

In this moment, he knew the Jedi must end.

So he slaughtered them all.

Even the children.

Yet there must have been another side of him. The man in the Holocron seemed… content. Mischievous. Playful. He’d sired two children, outside of the Jedi code, but with whom? If he had only ever been entrenched in darkness… how had he held the love of another? How had he garnered enough respect of his Jedi community to be entrusted with the recording of a Holocron?

Ben Solo had achieved none of those things.

Yet another way he never measured up, he supposed.

Historically fascinated, as he was, he’d found ways to dig up Rebel accounts of Darth Vader - though he kept those efforts well hidden from Snoke. One such document was a personal letter drafted by none other than Luke Skywalker. Imperial records stated that Skywalker killed both Vader and Palpatine – but Skywalker’s letter spoke of Vader turning to the light. Turning against his master to save his son, just before he died of his mortal wounds.

He shucked it off as Jedi propaganda. He hadn’t believed it. Not then.

But now…?

Who was Anakin Skywalker?

His line of thought runs itself dry.

He looks at himself in the ‘fresher mirror, running the razor over his jawline before his eyes fall back on his clothes.

One. Black. Shirt. With a hole in it. That’s all he has.

If it needed a wash – he sat, naked, until he had what he needed.

This will not do. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn pads quickly from the captain’s quarters and tosses clothes into Ren’s chest. “Here.”

The man scoffs, visibly tense. “Whose, pray-tell, are _these_?” Ren’s fist holds up linen shirts and leather vests, eyes narrowed. 

Finn challenges, “Whose do you _think_? Whose ship is this? Who would have old clothes laying around in a room somewhere?” 

Ren’s voice is wooden. “Have you even seen he and I stand next to each other? I tower-” 

Finn cuts in, eyes like ice, “Oh, yes. I’ve _seen_ you stand next to _Han Solo_. On Star Killer. You definitely towered over him, then.” 

Ren’s face lights aflame as his arm jerks out viciously, fingers _about_ to crook in the air, before he decides to just grind his teeth and shove the clothes back into Finn’s hands instead.

More like Thrust, actually.

His eyes turn cold as a dark smirk dawns over his face. “You lack creativity when it comes to your little verbal barbs, don’t you? Well – now you can be satisfied; you finally got that line of thought out of your _petulant_ mouth. Last time you tried, Rey didn’t let you, did she?” Ren’s jaw tilts down slightly as he looms forward, emphasizing the difference between their heights. He presses again, “Did she?”

Finn’s rage uncoils. It’s too much. It’s all been just Too. Damn. Much.

Something bubbles in him. An instinct. Fast. Without really understanding the actions he’s moving forward with, he decides to beat Ren at his own game.

He flings out his senses and feels into Ren’s mind, lightning quick. 

The Darksider growls, “Don’t.” Finn digs deeper and feels something like a wire, pulled taught. 

“You.” Finn sees that wire. 

“Dare.” And snips it. 

Ren crashes unceremoniously to the floor. No grace, no shielding his sensitive parts. Just a hard crash. Finn’s eyes go wide as his brief wave of satisfaction... turns to horror. 

What thread did he cut? Finn doesn’t know… all he knows is that Ren’s not moving... 

… The silence is deafening.

“Rey...!” Finn’s voice chokes, drawing out her name with a panicked lilt.

He feels that familiar tug filling his chest as she perks into awareness within him. He knows the very moment she sees what he does, because his already-ice-cold blood drops 20 more degrees. 

_What have you done?_

Finn leans down and starts shaking Ren, all while Rey panics in his chest. Flitting like a bird. Adding to his agitation.

Finn touches him. Pokes him, “Ren.”

 _Shoves_ him. “REN!” 

He hears Rey say two words:

_Slap him._

And doesn’t have to be told twice.

Ren’s head ricochets to the side – it was more of a clout than a slap, to which he feels Rey’s immediate disapproval. Still… no movement. Fear runs through them both. 

Finn’s mouth races, “Oh Gods, Rey – did I kill him? I don’t know how to really do what I just did… how do I know if I killed him?"

Rey’s thoughts are in a jumble, too – just about frantic.

_Check his heart._

Finn scoffs, “Check his heart HOW?”

Rey tugs his chest in a completely unfriendly way.

_Weren’t you a SOLDIER? Field first aid?_

Finn gestures at himself and retorts for the _millionth_ time, “SANITATION WORKER!” 

Finn sulks, obstinate. “Listen to his heart with What, Rey? Want me to press my beautiful head into his bountiful chest or something? I _refuse_ to touch him like that.” He flicks his hands as if spattering off something dirty.

It was as if he could see her, that’s how deeply he feels her eyes narrow and her shoulders tense. He feels her ready to do something – but he doesn’t know what until…

“CHEWIEEEEEEE!” His voice rings out.

Wait. What? He didn’t…

Rey. Did she just…?

Chewie runs in quickly and sees Ren sprawled on the floor. He stares for a moment, looking from Finn to Ren and back again. His posture relaxes and he leans back, shaking his head and crossing his arms, growling in an amused way. Saying something that roughly equates to, “Took you long enough.” 

Finn feels a _lurch_ in his body as he spins to face fur. His mouth isn’t his own and his voice sounds strange. “Check him, Chewie. Make sure he’s alive,” and then the grip of panic quiets a bit as Rey recedes back into her little corner in Finn’s mind.

She is furious. She is terrified. And not for her own well being, either. He begrudgingly remembers that she ‘loves’ him.

Which hurts Finn’s feelings. 

More than just a little.

He twitches his head to the side and thrusts his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

Chewie pats Ren all around, fingers his pulse and smacks him a few times for good measure. To his credit, they were actual slaps and _not_ the blow Finn had given.

The Wookie roars, “He’ll live.” 

Rey surges through him again. “When will he wake up?” He's mortified by the desperation in his voice. 

Chewie looks at him oddly, tilting his head to one side. His growl was unmistakable, “Who cares?” before trudging off once more. 

Rey frantically sends out a fast,

_I have to…_

Before he feels her leave him. Not the gentle fade she normally makes when they disconnect – more like a jolt. A hollow jolt.

Left there alone in his jealousy and shame, Finn sits near the Dejarik table and contemplates his next move. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It feels like hours have passed since Rey left him. He sits in a now-empty room, fingers working, sore – but holding out. He’s only bleeding a tiiiny bit.

Finally, he feels her like a sigh in his body. Her relief is palpable.

_He’ll be alright._

Finn snorts. “So – I just knocked him out, then?” He smiles a little. “Score one point for me.”

He feels a trace of humor rise in her. Something that almost sounds like,

_Serves him right._

He had done it to both of them before, after all. The feeling fades, though, when Rey realizes that no one was there to catch ‘Ben’ when he collapsed, like he had done for her. Like he had even done for Finn.

He doesn’t hear it in words… but, rather, as an ache in his chest.

He hates this. Feeling her as if it were his own feelings. As if _he_ had feelings for Ren.

Her melancholy bleeds into his, but he turns it bitter.

He hopes that this emotion sharing isn’t a two way street. So far, it didn’t seem to be, given a wayward thought or two he may have had when checking in on her body. He’d likely be missing his manhood if she ever felt _those_ feelings.

_What are you doing?_

Finn nearly jumps, distancing himself from those 'wayward thoughts' _lightning_ fast. He focuses, instead, on his working hands.

_I didn’t know you could do that…_

He can feel her smile and pride wells inside him. It’s not every day he gets to whip out a hidden talent to impress a girl. “Well, don’t say anything yet – there’s still a lot to do. I may even ruin it on purpose.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo opens his eyes on the cot next to Rey’s slumbering form. Head whipping side to side, realization sets in that the Wookie must have brought him in here, since there was no way in Hell that Finn could lift him. 

His lips twitch at how insanely irritating that must have been for him. For both of them. Then he remembers the reason for his little _nap_ and fury descends – he sits up with the intention to… 

Something tumbles from his chest. He starts to thrust it away, but it unfurls just enough that he can see its shape and understand what it is. Kylo rises and holds that _something_ against him. 

It's shoddy. Uneven. Discolored in places. Worn down a bit in others. But it would fit. 

Finn had made him… clothes. 

He hates them. He hates them immediately. And yet…

He looks down at his new pale colored ensemble and intones to himself, “Apology accepted.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo enters the lounge slowly for his meal. He’s already tense. The ensemble's color is, well, too _neutral_. He feels awkward. Less sure of himself. Less _commanding._

He’s also more than slightly miserable, knowing that he’s wearing what remains of his father’s clothing.

He catches Chewie’s sight first. He locks eyes with his Uncle, seeing the understanding dawn in his brown animalistic eyes. Kylo’s are wide, pleading. Inside, some vulnerable part of him is begging, _Please don’t make this harder than it already is._

Chewie’s eyes turn wet, before his spins on his heels and stalks out, howling gently.

Kylo’s lips press together as he rallies, stepping the rest of the way into the lounge. He gathers his food quickly and moves to the center of the room.

Finn is on the floor, cross-legged. Books are strewn all about him, flipped to various pages. He recognizes these texts. His heart swells in his chest, excitement gripping him. Near breathless, “Where did you get those?”

Finn, “hmms”, looking up. He admires his stitching handiwork for a quick second before turning back to the books. “Rey had them here. She got them from Luke.” His face jerks up slightly, a smile spreading on his lips, “Correction – she _stole_ them.”

Kylo huffs a small laugh, “Scavenger.”

He sits down and picks up one of the tomes not already open in front of Finn. He loves the feeling of paper in his hands; it reminds him of his calligraphy. He suddenly feels wistful – yearning for all the scrolls of insights he’d made on the Jedi practices, their religion and capabilities. All wrapped up as delicate sheets of parchment.

Parchment that burned away in the Skywalker Temple.

“You know,” he intones, “I can read these books.”

Finn tenses, “And why do you think I can’t?”

 _Because you’re only open to the ‘picture pages’_ , is what Kylo wants to say.

What he _does_ say is, “These are archaic languages. Lost, for the most part. I studied them. In fact, I studied these specific books.” His gaze flits around the floor. “All of them.”

Finn looks around. “These?”

Kylo points, “Aionomica – volumes one and two. The third one is lost.” He gestures as if to say, ‘somewhere in the universe’. He continues, “Chronicles of Brus-bu, the Rammahgon.” He rather likes showing off. He _always_ likes showing off.

Passing his fingers over one of the illustrations Finn was perusing, “Ah, and this is the Chain of Worlds Theorem. Vergence Scatter. World between Worlds. Netherworld of Unbeing.” Kylo lifts his eyebrows dramatically. 

Finn rolls his eyes.

Kylo removes his hands from the priceless artifacts. “My offer is open if you’d like me to -“

“Nope.” Finn cuts him off, popping his “p” sound at the end of the word.

Kylo sighs heavily and leans his back against the base of the main seating. He deadpans, “I’m sure someday _someone_ will let me teach them.”

“Yeah, Darksiders.” Finn snorts. He turns around to face Kylo with a sarcastic look on his smart mouth. “That or if you spawn any children, _then_ you…” but the words die on Finn’s lips and his mouth twists down, instead. As if it was filled with lemons.

If children come to exist, they would be Rey’s children, too. 

He’d have no other, after all.

Kylo’s face becomes disbelieving. Sad. “People like me don’t get to make happy families.”

Finn face is still drawn in a hard line, “Who said they’d be _happy_?”

He faintly feels Rey snag Finn’s chest so hard it _hurts._ Kylo can’t help a self-serving smirk blooming on his face, as he slowly nudges food into his mouth with his bare fingertips.

Grimacing, Finn rasps his palm over his chest. “So, what do we do next?”

“Honestly?” He pauses, finishing off the last of his meal. “I have no idea.”

Kylo dusts himself off and leaves Finn to continue to stare at more Jedi pictures.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Dream.

The sun shines down on him and he lets it warm his face for awhile. He never thought he’d admit to it, but he’s starting to like this desert. This imaginary, not-real, facsimile desert.

She’s standing beside him, no quarterstaff this time. She tugs his (new) shirtsleeve.

“Finn did a good job.”

“I’ll tell him you said so.”

A beat passes between them. He’s amused, anticipating that she’ll lose her patience with their silence.

And he’s right.

“What are you showing me tonight?” She laces her fingers together, hands behind her back. Her chest puffs to the sky as she scoops onto her tiptoes before rocking back down onto her heels.

He finds her adorable.

He holds out his hand to her, casually. As if it’s something he does every day. Her face softens as the tips of her fingers touch his. He’s more confident this time and the scenery quickly bleeds into a lush and deep forest, threaded with a dark gray river.

The green canopy around them dapples the sunlight over her shoulders. Her eyes brush over the trees with nothing short of wonder, but her sight drops quickly to the gentle bolt of slow-moving water. Kylo walks ahead of her, boots making hollow clomping sounds on wooden slats fashioned over the lip of the water’s edge.

He gestures, “Come.” He sits fluidly on the dock and she follows suit. He hands her a pole and gently unfastens a hook and lure from its spine.

Her eyes are wide on the contraption. “What are we doing?”

His mirth is infectious. “Fishing.” He nods his head towards the water. “It’s nice and deep here. The fish are big – and foolish. They’re not used to being hunted, so they snatch anything that’s close to the surface.”

Her expression is wary for a moment, but she assess the mechanics of the rod before nodding to herself. He gently shows her how to cast it.

He only has to duck the hook once.

They sit in amicable silence, as Rey dips her toes in the river, swishing them a little. “Where are we?”

Kylo tips his head a bit. “I actually don’t remember. I only came here once… Some supply-run stop-over.”

“Did you catch anything?”

His lips quirk but before he can answer, he sees a tug on her line. “There we go.” He jumps up to his knees. “Now, reel it in.”

Rey fumbles with the wheel a bit.

And a bit more.

Kylo can’t help but feel his irritation prick. “Just… just crank the handle.” He has no idea what she’s doing, but it’s definitely not _cranking the handle._

He huffs, “Here, let me.”

She fluffs him away with her hands, “Don’t, I can do this.”

He sits up on his haunches as she fumbles. The line is going out. And _out._ His hands are in a state of raising and lowering as drips of language come from his mouth. “Look, could you just – all you have to –“

Her hackles rise and she stands away from him, jerking the rod. She, too, is letting out language – but hers is a string of curses.

Kylo’s ire is up. “Look, just _listen…_ ”

“No, I can do this…”

“All you have to do is-”

“I’m telling you-“

“Rey!”

“Ben.”

And the line snaps.

They host a staring contest of self-righteous and haughty glares.

“Why do you always have to control _everything_ , Ben Solo?”

“And why don’t you ever just _listen_ for once, Rey of Jakku?”

“You’re always like this.“

“Always like what?” He scowls.

“Bossy.”

His eyes glint, “Well, I did rule the Galaxy for a little while there.”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. His dream world melts like snow and they are back in her desert. Instead of its normal pleasantness, the heat is now stifling. Unbearable. 

Her finger raises in his face, pointing. “And look what good that did you. Look what good that did _us!”_

“I had no control over the Final Order.”

“The FIRST Order! I was _on_ occupied worlds, remember?” She hissed. “I saw your _oppression_.”

“The planet you were on ran Spice. Drugs. Do you even know what Spice does to people?”

“It’s no excuse. You can’t just-“

Sarcastic, “Can’t I?”

“No. You can’t.” She squares her shoulders and casts a stony glare his way. “People get to have a _say_ in things, Ben. You can’t just _tell them what to do."_

“This is just Resistance-speak. Propaganda. Tell me, how effective was the New Republic in halting Spice Trade? Cracking down on smuggling? Which, by the way, circumvents hard won trade agreements and hurts local economies. I can give you metrics on the First Order’s success in those examples.”

She nearly growls, “You’re a tyrant.”

He scoffs, “And you’re a _parrot._ What do you know of history? Is that something you learned in your holoprograms? I’d bet not – because Empire Tech would have given you a completely different opinion, since you’re too uninformed to make your own.”

She's seething now. He thinks it might only be moments before she goes in for an actual blow. He's ready for her, if she does. She opens her mouth to say something, but he cuts her off, eyes cold.

“I watched my mother in the Senate for years. Years. I watched stalemate after stalemate with _nothing_ happening because _no one_ was in charge. Do you know what happened during that time?”

Her eyes are slits on his.

“People starved, waiting for aid. Died. Were _enslaved_. Don’t you tell me that democracy is the balm to solve the galaxy’s evils. You barely even knew enough of the galaxy to _understand_ it’s evils. No – all you know is how to be a Scavenger. Just Rey of Jakku.”

And now – he’s hurt her. Seeing the pain in her eyes cuts through his anger, leaving only embers. He presses his fingertips into his hair. When he next glimpses her, her eyes are brimming with tears.

“Don’t call me that... ‘Rey of Jakku’.”

He sighs. A moment passes in silence. Taking a breath, he tries to explain, “When I was young, I was called by my first name... until I _wasn’t listening_. Then I was called by my _full_ name. Just as you referred to me, not five minutes ago. You dislike 'Rey of Jakku' so much? Forgive me, it just so happens that _I_ dislike the idea of calling you 'Rey Palpetine', instead.”

Rey bites out, though her tears, “I’m not a child. I don’t need your condescending tone.”

“This is besides the point. Just admit that you know very little of history.” He pauses, eyes dismissive. “Say it. There are no history lessons in this _wasteland_. In fact, there is no formal schooling at all on _Jakku…”_

Her shoulders go to her ears and she near screams, “I don’t want to be associated with this KARKING planet anymore!”

And just like that – they are in the void of... space. Black. Inky. Nothingness all around them. Kylo is speechless. They float – all anger between the two gone as they drift within this new emptiness.

“Why are we… nowhere?” his voice is breathy and it reverberates around him like a swollen echo.

She’s holding back her tears, but she looks defeated and hollow. “I don’t know anywhere else better than I know these two places. The Desert and Space. Both barren, waterless places.”

Time flows between them and their hardened hearts soften. He looks at her and her tears now bubble around her face. Without gravity, they drift out of her eyes into the vastness.

He leans to her, tresses flowing behind him like ribbons, and traces his fingers over her eyes.

“What should I call you, then?” She blinks up at him, not connecting to what he’s asking. “When I’m preparing to act like a condescending ass, scolding you for not listening.”

Another one of his faltering jokes, though it hits the mark and she lets out one of her little snorts before rolling her eyes. She won’t look at him, so he returns the favor and turns away, slightly, one hand still hovering at the nape of her neck.

“You know – I heard about your family, growing up. They were… heroes. I’d never imagined that I’d meet them; get to know them. After the time I spent with Han… well, I thought that… if you didn’t want your family, maybe I could make them mine.”

He'd known that already. Resigned, he keeps his eyes trained on a star nursery in the distance.

“That was before I met your infuriating uncle, though.”

His amusement knows no bounds.

“It took a long time to get to Ahch-to. I had nothing to do but... think. So, I imagined that Luke would meet me, take me in and teach me about the Force. That we’d become something like a team and that we’d save the galaxy together. Stop the war. That I’d be sort of an adopted daughter. I could be Rey Skywalker.”

She jokingly looks at him, "We could have been cousins.”

He winces, “No thank you. Our families are already more closely related than I care to discuss.”

She laughs, “And we both seem to have ‘Granddaddy’ issues.”

He’s faintly horrified to have his reverence over Darth Vader described in such a way.

After a brief pause, he gazes into her eyes. The hand that hovers over her neck inches closer as he draws his thumb over the column of her throat, gently. Her gaze is locked on his, but he can't define her expression. Silently, he takes her in, a deep longing welling within him as he softly says, “If you want a last name, Rey, I can give you one…”

She parts her lips, as if to question. It’s clear to him that she hadn’t caught his meaning.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because now he’s awake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If only Friend could have seen the Stupid Boy tonight. Wearing his clothes. Bursting through them…

Friend.

How much he _misses_ Friend.

He knew. Once he saw Friend approach the Stupid Boy, he knew that it would end badly.

All at once, Chewie feels a pang in his chest as he stares through the viewport into the stream of stars. He palms his paw through his long locks and lets out a low mournful sound. He remembers when Stupid Boy was still Sweet Boy; he remembers how sad and lonely he was... even back then.

Princess off to save the galaxy, always. Friend off to find adventure. Friend never really understood the Force, so he couldn’t understand his pup.

Neither of them knew about the voice in the Sweet Boy’s head, either. They didn’t know _the voice_ was why he couldn’t sleep. Why he was often crying. Before the Sweet Boy even had words, he was being hunted.

And then he’d been caught. Because selfish Friend and selfless Princess never protected him.

And it pained him to remember that it was also because _he_ had never shared the Sweet Boy’s confession about the voice with his family. He treated it as if it was just a child's imaginary friend.

Chewbacca mourns. His heart feels like lead in his chest.

He’d joined them once, in the Blue Butterfly fields. The Sweet Boy was always so happy there. So at peace. He remembered rolling with him along the soft grass as little azure wings landed in his coal black hair.

How he _wishes_ he’d seen what was happening more clearly. How he _wishes_ he’d made Friend stay home more often. How he _wishes_ he’d been there to advise against sending the Sweet Boy away. He was never meant to be a Jedi, like the Princess' Twin.

But they had sent him. They gave up on him. They had pushed him away. And then Sweet Boy pushed _everything_ away.

Chewie rests his head back on the seat, mulling over his melancholy thoughts, when a huge CRASH comes from further inside the ship.

STUPID Boys. BOTH Boys. Don’t understand how DELICATE this ship is. 

Chewie flicks on the autopilot and throws himself out of the chair, banging heavy strides towards the sound.

“Meditation has MERIT!”

“Yeah, well what about the merit of Shutting the Hell Up?”

Stupid Boy lets out a growl of frustration. Chewie understands the feeling. New Boy is yelling – again… _always._

“Meditation isn’t getting either of us _anywhere_. Do you really think you can get Lighter just by sitting on the floor and keeping your mouth shut? We have to DO something. We have to _change_ something!”

Stupid Boy hisses, “Well, I don’t know what else to do.”

Bickering. Always bickering. Chewie’s head hurts. He has half a mind to throw them both into space.

He stomps between them, holding both hands out straight to either side, halting them and cutting off their childish shrieking.

He wails towards Stupid Boy. The first time he’s really addressed him since he arrived. Simply, “You need a direction? Learn from your family. Do what your parents would do.”

New Boy pauses, putting his hands on his hips, pursing his lips slightly, before smacking them with a sharp sound. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

Stupid Boy gets just a little bit _less_ stupid. He intones, “It means we just stop the bad guys.” Then his eyes light up, like an epiphany.

The other one lets out an exasperated cry, flailing his hands while spinning in a half circle. “Great. Perfect. Great.” He sighs through his nose before looking Chewie in the eyes. “How do we find a bad guy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Master has given Dobby a sock?" <\-- this is what I thought when Finn gave Kylo clothes. 
> 
> Oooh, we're about to hit another Lightside quest!!


	8. Trust

  
  


Art by [haloren1st](https://haloren1st.tumblr.com)

_________________

It’s only the afternoon, and yet…

“Go Home, Finn – you’re drunk.” Kylo shoves the dark-skinned man past the table where he’d been harassing the locals.

They had come to a local cantina to scope out the scene and Kylo has… regrets.

“No!” Finn digs in his heels. Like a child. “I won’t leave!” He whips around, facing the table again – jabbing his finger into the Chagrian’s blue face.

“Okay, _horns…_ ”

Kylo inwardly cringes at the racial slur. Finn might be ignorant to that particular piece of slang – but the Chagrian definitely was _not._ He stands up, towering over Finn – but that idiot's too in-the-bag to realize when he needs to tread lightly.

Or back off completely.

Like now.

“Hmmmm, listening to me _now,_ ain’tcha?”

The Chagrian thumps his overlarge hand directly onto Finn’s smug face, grasping it momentarily before _shoving_ him far and over another table. Finn’s heels caress the air in a rather ungraceful manner.

Kylo’s hand discretely unhooks his mother’s lightsaber and his finger strokes the trigger. Exhilaration starts to thread through his body.

_Oh yes,_ he thinks, _just give me a reason…_

His bloodlust hikes up a notch. He wouldn’t mind upping his body count, even though it’s only been about a standard week since he’d killed his Knights of Ren.

Music blares throughout the bar. A Clawdite changeling, whose drink had just been obliterated by Finn’s flying body, just puts his face in his hands and _sighs_ long and hard. Kylo muses that this must not be the creature’s best day.

The Chagrian’s red-rimmed eyes stab into Finn, who is still fumbling to get up.

“Hey!” Finn yells. “Hey!” He looks up at Kylo, incredulous, “Why am I on the _floor?'_

Kylo groans and closes his eyes. So much for keeping a low profile. He considers that he should start growing his facial hair out, among other changes, just to ensure he’d never be recognized. At least these _pale_ clothes have the unintended benefit of distancing him from his former aesthetic.

Plus, his scar was gone.

He hopes that, if there are any living ex-First Order soldiers, they’ll never recognize him. But if they do, he’s sure that their thoughts would be _loud_. He could always hear when people nearby were thinking about him. And so, he’d hear them.

And then he’d kill them before they can spread the word.

He smirks to himself. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be recognized, after all…

He frowns to himself, then. _Too Dark._

Finn stands, though ‘stand’ is a subjective term.

“Hey!” He yells again – not at Kylo, but to the room at large. Though the music still plays, many heads turn in his direction.

The Chagrian’s shoulders square as he straightens his back, his dangling horned appendages brushing over his expansive chest. He flings his eyes at Kylo, who returns his gaze mildly.

“We’re just looking for a _bad guy,_ alright? We’re a couple of… do-gooders… and we just wanna – y’know – save the world and stuff.”

At first, everyone’s gaze holds Finn’s… but it doesn’t last. Fairly quickly, they all find something more interesting and turn back to their conversations and beverages-of-choice. In fact, they nearly all turn in unison. They must be disillusioned by drunken ‘do-gooders’.

Kylo grips Finn again, more firmly this time, and digs the tips of his fingers into the hollow of his shoulder - resulting in a squawk from the wobbling man. He begins to haul his drunkard along – ignoring whatever the hell is falling from the man’s lips at this moment – before he senses a firm hand reaching out to grasp his forearm.

It doesn’t have a chance to connect.

Finn’s rump hits the floor again as Kylo shoves him away, his lightsaber flashing into existence. It casts it’s now-familiar blue glow onto his pale face. The hum is thrilling… but its _feel_ is still lacking. Too gentle. He misses the raw edge of his own weapon. Deeply.

Stumbling back a step, the Chagrian’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs open as he stammers, “Are you… are you a _Jedi?"_

Alas, they have the bar’s attention now.

Kylo’s face is stoic, giving nothing away. He disengages his blade, grabbing Finn once more and _dragging_ him. That idiot is, somehow, still babbling incoherently about heroism...

The afternoon air is cold as the two emerge, Kylo tugging Finn hard enough that the man’s boots pull streaks into the soft dusting of ash that comes from being so close to a damn volcano. The air quality here leaves something to be desired.

“Wait!” a voice calls out, accent thick. “Please, wait.”

Kylo thinks about telling whoever it is to speak in _any_ language other than Basic in the hopes that Finn won’t understand… and would finally then _shut up_.

He turns towards the voice, keeping a stiff grip on his compatriot. The Chagrian’s hand is out in a supplicating manner as he takes tentative steps into the chill temperature. Kylo’s eyebrows raise, slightly, but he says nothing.

“Are you a Jedi?”

Kylo is put-off at the reference, but he continues his stoic silence.

“Because, there _is_ a bad man near here. A Very Bad Man.”

Finn’s bleary eyes turn to Kylo’s with a sleezy kind of grin.

And they let the man talk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He needs something for the ache in his head.

Even though the roar of the engines is splitting his mind open, Rey unfeelingly decides that this is the best time to argue with Finn inside his own mind. He always seemed to hear her much more coherently whenever Ren was nearby. He scoffs, _it figures_.

Rey is argumentative. Again.

_Ben said there are others who disagree. That some think this man is some kind of savior._

“Savior, Murderer… the lines have really blurred for me these days,” he intones sardonically.

Ren tips his head to the side, looking at Finn as he touches the Falcon down (perfectly) at the coordinates they were given.

“Yeah – you know who I’m talking to. And… about.” Finn grimaces. “Just concentrate on the ship!”

Chewie was out negotiating his supply run fees, ready to start his trade again. He made Finn promise not to let Ren touch the controls.

Oops.

Flicking a few switches, Ren lifts himself from the captain’s seat before pointing out of the viewport, angling his eyes in line with his straightened arm.

“There.”

Finn lifts up from his seat to look at the monastery. The volcano still spits in the distance but, instead of ash, greenery covers this place. It must be the kind to thrive in the cooler temperatures.

Its upkeep is impeccable. The landscaping is like artwork; blood red trees and crisp green bushes are all carved into geometric shapes. The walls and gate are ornate, the cloister inside perfectly symmetrical in its complexity. Almost mathematical. Behind it lays a small housing complex. Tidy, but otherwise humble in comparison.

Even under the evening sky, people mill about, working on the campus. They are all dressed in plain, neutral colors. Their faces hold soft looks of contentment.

Whatever this looks like, it _doesn’t_ look like a Bad Guy’s Lair.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Ren mentions, turning around to make his way towards the exit ramp.

Finn grits his teeth, wishing for the millionth time that Ren would _get out of his head._ Having one person in there was enough. As if on cue,

_Don’t jump in there and go crazy. Watch, learn, listen. This might all be a misunderstanding._

Finn loves her, but at this very moment – he’d rather not be told what to do by an unconscious person.

Outside, it’s turned _cold_ and the temperature continues to drop with the sun. Finn pulls Poe’s jacket tighter around him, trying to stave off the chill as he eyes Ren. Those second-hand clothes are way too thin for this weather. Threadbare, even – but if it bothers the Darksider, he couldn’t tell.

Finn huffs in irritation. Why does this guy have to be such a bad ass?

His breath plumes out in front of him and his jaw begins to chatter, yet Ren doesn’t even seem to feel it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_It’s fucking cold._

Kylo feels his hair follicles beading into rigid goosebumps.

He vows to get _real_ clothes, _warm_ clothes, _armored_ clothes, as soon as they make a judgement call on the Mon Calamari who runs this… Cult of Personality.

They call him ‘Yama’. A Monk - of sorts. According to the minds of others, this man will either Kill you… or Save you. Unfortunately, it seemed Yama had performed the former act on the Chagrian’s kin.

Their visit to his temple could be considered reconnaissance at this point, however. Stories are conflicted across the local area. They’d talked to some and Kylo had also silently dipped into the minds of others. Some see this creature as a murderer and con man. Others don’t connect him to evil or darkness at all. Rather – to something like Peace.

He considers the possible words the name was derived from. It was a word with meaning in many of the languages he knew, but the Dja translation seemed most appropriate. ‘Yama’ - ‘The five restraints’; describing what one should avoid in order to advance on their spiritual path. Fitting, for a Monk.

Finn follows behind him as Kylo steps through the cloud that his warm breath makes in the increasingly frigid air. His strides are familiarly heavy and swift as he makes his way towards the gated entry. A smattering of workers pause in their duties to offer them soft smiles. Smiles of… sympathy, he feels.

Odd.

Before they make it through the entrance, a small and elderly woman steps gently in front of them. She holds out a heavy blanket, another draped around her arm. She is bundled herself, as she stretches wordlessly to offer the gesture of warmth to Kylo. He nods sternly and accepts it, wrapping it over his shoulders like a cloak. He automatically feels more like himself and breathes an internal sigh. The fabric is heated, as if it had been warming while waiting for them. Perhaps it had.

Finn follows suit, but he allows the old woman to wrap the blanket around his neck herself, while he offers her a small and uncomfortable smile. Kylo silently notes: remind Finn to stop letting his guard down. 

With her welcoming gesture complete, the woman steps before them once more. Her head nods in deference.

“Our Yama welcomes you to his Temple.”

Finn’s voice is uncertain, “You knew we were coming?”

The woman’s face is somber, but she manages a polite smile. “Someone is _always_ coming.” She nods her head in a gesture to follow her. Her steps hold a slight limp and Kylo sees scarring across her hands and wrists. His mind touches hers gently, but all he can feel quickly is a strong sense of purpose. After a beat, he follows her, Finn falling in close behind.

It seems the staff is winding down for the evening. Many are patting each other softly and shaking hands before pulling off and walking in staggered lines towards the barracks behind the temple.

“Where are you taking us?” Kylo’s tone implies a respectful courtesy, but it’s undertoned by something hostile.

“All those who come to us are treated with hospitality. We will feed you in the main Temple and leave you to rest in one of our sacred spaces for reflection. We are peaceful here; we do not tolerate violence,” she casts a knowing eye at Kylo, gaze falling to the hilt of his lightsaber.

He doesn't respond.

Finn calls out from behind them, “We get to meet Yama?”

Now a smile burgeons and her wrinkles fade, giving way to a hint of her younger times. “Yama meets with any and all. He will see you once he feels you are ready to be seen.”

Finn is slightly incredulous. “What does that mean, exactly?”

Kylo speaks up in a firm tone, angling his chin over his shoulder without letting his eyes leave their guide. “It means that we may be here a while.”

Finn huffs air uncomfortably through his nose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dining space is surprisingly intimate for such a large building. It must be one of many, he thinks.

The food is good. _Really_ good. Finn's fingers card over his stomach, now distended from their incredibly large meal. The First Order kept his meal regimen perfectly balanced for efficiency and health. The Resistance fed them… but it was more along the lines of, ‘whatever they could get’. No one starved.

But Finn has never eaten like this before. It's incomparable. Sauces and creams. Rey surveys the spread through his eyes and laments sorely at being able to _see_ but not _partake._ Her excitement added to his, though - compounding it. It's almost like they can taste the food _together,_ which is fairly intimate.

It would have been near-romantic if his heart hadn’t welled with her feelings every time Ren spoke to point out what something was, or when he passed something over or, you know... _breathed._ When Finn feels himself almost nudging his fingers to brush the Darksider’s, he fumes.

“All right – what’s going on with you and Rey?” Finn bangs his elbows on the table and scrubs his palms into his eyes.

He feels her embarrassment. He thinks she _almost_ wants to pull away and not hear the conversation.

Almost.

Ren was in the middle of retrieving a bowl and his movements pause mid air before continuing their fluid motion.

“Why aren’t you asking her?” Ren focuses on refilling his plate.

“Because I’m asking _you._ ”

Ren looks him straight in the eyes as his lips do that – twitch – thing he does instead of smile.

And he doesn’t answer.

Bastard.

Ren, for his part, seems pleased. Like he has a secret. Because he does.

Finn tenses as he feels Rey’s… butterflies?

He slams his hands on the table and stands in a jerk. Ren’s expression goes from pleased to downright _amused_ as he just continues eating, not feeling any of the intimidation Finn was trying to send his way.

The matron enters the room, interrupting Finn’s increasing hostility. She seems to sense the tension as she sweeps away empty dishes. Maybe it’s because of it that she decides not to leave the room - which only ratchets up his aggravation.

“If you gentlemen are done, I’d like to take you to your reflection spaces.”

“Space-s?” Finn’s aggravation turns into caution. “You’re separating us?” His blaster is in his belt but, if this is truly a Bad Guy’s Lair, being in a room with Kylo Ren certainly ups his chances at survival.

“Reflection is deeply personal. Even if you think you know each other’s minds – there are secret corners you will never be allowed to peek around.”

_Unless you’re -this- man,_ Finn thinks, still eyeing Ren bitterly.

“It’s better to have privacy to think about why you’re here. What you want to achieve. What you’ll speak about with Yama.”

“And what _will_ I speak about with Yama?”

The elder woman blinks, eyebrows knitting. “Why – you’ll give him your confession.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another dream.

They’re standing beside each other. So close that each one of them feels the static from the back of their hands colliding. The sun is setting in the distance, lighting the sky in hazes of orange and pink.

“I thought we’d be back in space,” Kylo intones as he feels his boots sink deeply in the Jakku sand.

“How can you _possibly_ be sleeping right now? You could be in the den of the enemy. You could be in _danger_.” There is annoyance in her voice, but also a slight worry. Unnecessary – but appreciated.

He smiles, “I’m a very light sleeper. Besides, the act of reflection has never done me any favors.”

A beat passes before Rey speaks up in a harsh whisper, “Ben?”

He looks at her then. Her eyebrows are drawn together and her mouth is firm as her glistening eyes search the distance.

“Get me out of this place.” She pauses, the weight of that statement heavy. “Please.”

And, without another word, he does.

The sky blooms purple-black above them as pin prick stars twinkle in the veil. There are two moons, one orange and one white – both in deep crescents as the planet blocks them from their sun.

They stand, hands clasped together, at the lip of a small pond. The water is dark under the night sky… until they see it. Little flickers of neon green. He wonders if she’s familiar with the color or if she had never known it existed until this very moment.

The flickers lick their way up the lake in a stripe before dimming down. Then it does it again, but in a different pattern this time. The lake looks like it’s pulsing. Breathing in blazes.

Her gasp is audible. Even he feels reverent in this place.

“I don’t know how I got here the first time,” he remarks. “I had just been sent to Skywalker. My family... _left me_ at the Temple that night. I got… intense… things were floating everywhere – _shattering._ I was losing control, terrified that I would get in trouble again - so I knew I had to hide it. I had to get away.”

Surprising her, he gets down on one knee and starts to loosen her boot, slowly. “So I ran. I ran until my body was on _fire._ I ran until I didn’t know how to _breathe_ anymore.” She allows him to lift her foot, unearthing her toes before moving to the next.

“And then I ran some more…”

Still kneeling, he begins on his own battered footware, politely placing both hers and his beside one other, standing at attention.

Rising and looking distant, he pads his way over to the lake across the soft, dampened sand. The water that ripples over his feet is only faintly cool. He watches the phosphorescent green light up in arcs.

He hears a light splashing behind him and turns over his shoulder to see her. He smiles at her expression of awe as she takes in this place. Her eyes close, listening to the nighttime chirps of life all around her, tiptoeing ahead of him and deeper in.

To her ankles. To her calves. Her knees. Thighs. Clothes soaking through. Eyes still shuttered by her lashes. He watches her breathe in the sweet floral air and takes a moment to do the same.

“Will you teach me something, Ben?”

He wants to say, ‘ _Politics?’_ but, instead he whispers, “Anything.”

She looks at him in three-quarter view and her face is mischievous. “Teach me to swim.”

He shyly tips his head down, his lopsided grin dimpling his cheeks. “Clothes on or off?” he challenges.

She rolls her eyes, her answer being to simply push deeper into the water in her full regalia. Sans shoes.

He remembers the night he’d silenced a fury of hers – and he roguishly decides to repeat the moment. He quietly slips off his shirt and simply places it in the water, the damp seeping in, as it sinks out of sight.

He slinks down and lifts his feet from the bottom, his shoulders working in the water to pull himself closer to her. She’s up to her breast line now and wincing over the cool water that laps at her skin. His lips pull up in a quirk.

His feet hit the ground again and he stands closely behind her. Softly, he lifts his large hands to place them over her forearms – leaning dangerously close in doing so. He feels something in his body. A kind of… desperation. Some _need_ to hold her. To touch her. To have her touch _him._

Instead, he lifts her arms above the water and clasps them. “Move forward until your shoulders are in the water. Then, I want you to lift your feet.”

He can sense her apprehension, even without the Force.

“I’ve got you.”

She moves forward, his hands on her arms, but stops short, “There aren’t any… _fish_ … in here, right?”

He lets out a short, quiet laugh. “No, no – you’re fine.” He can hear the smile in his own voice.

She turns quickly to return the expression when she spots his bare chest. Her eyes widen and flit away, shyly. Giving her mercy, he dips under the water, tipping his head back and soaking his hair through. When he looks at her again, her eyes are fixed on him. Intense.

His hair slicks back against his crown and he feels the separated strands at the back of his neck beading with droplets. They run down his neck and shoulders… and her eyes light on _fire._ Her lip pulls between her teeth and she clasps it there for the briefest of moments.

She moves to turn her face away, but he reaches out fluidly and catches her jawline. Tipping her face back in his direction, he murmurs, “Eyes on me…”

Facing each other this time, he holds her forearms once more. He stands in the darkness of the water as a gleam of green shoots between them… but he doesn’t see it.

He just sees her.

His voice is soft, “Now, knees up.”

He feels her weight shift in his grasp as he steadies her underwater. Her eyes are open wide and nervous as she glances to the water and then to his face repeatedly before huffing out a sound of incredulity.

“Am I floating?” She’s in awe.

His smile is soft. “No, not yet.” He shifts his position slightly, “Hold on to me…”

She lifts her hands so they press against his bare shoulders. She’s careful not to touch him much more than that… but even this small sensation is omnipresent in his mind. He moves a hand behind her back and places his other one feather-light against the front of her hip.

“I need you to trust me.”

The words carry weight. Her eyes meet his and she nods. “I trust you.”

And he dips her down. The back of her head parts the water all the way to her hairline and he brings her hips up towards the sky. “Straighten your legs out and let the air fill your lungs all the way.”

She _grins_. When he hums a question mark at her she squints her mirthful eyes to the sky. “Your voice sounds funny…”

He realizes her ears are under the water. It must be another first. He is overcome by a sense of honor, in showing her this.

Not letting on, he simply smiles, “Do you like what you hear?” and her grin _widens._

They stay like this, her floating in his arms as she closes her eyes to the night sky. He, however, keeps finding her in his field of vision, no matter which way his face is turned. A smile tugs at her lips once more as she opens an eye slowly to peek at him, “Stop watching me, Ben.”

He grins, unabashedly as the water nudges her hair into a halo around her head. “I find I rather like watching you.”

The water breaks as she lifts her far arm to press against his cheek. She says nothing – but he doesn’t think she needs to. Instead, her fingers slide up to wind themselves in the hair at his temple, her palm pressing against his face. He closes his eyes and tilts into her, lips parted ever so slightly.

“Rey?”

“Ben?”

“Come to me next time. Come into _my_ mind. Then, you’ll never have to see Jakku again, unless you want to. Come to me…” his plush lips caress the softness of her palm, not a kiss, before catching at the calloused ridges where her hand meets the base of her fingers. “Please.” And that word is an _ache_. His brows are twined together in insecurity as he bares himself to her once more.

Her thumb traces over his parted mouth and he opens his eyes to her. The longing he sees there must reflect his own.

“I will.”

And like that, she’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Romance of Rey, #WaterKink


	9. The Monk

  
  


_________________

So – the room looks nice enough. Not, like, comfortable – like a place you’d want to sleep… but, sitting will work.

So Finn sits.

The lighting is a warm yellow and the geometric motifs from outside are carried in through here, as well. It reminds him of the decoration on the surface of the Holocron he found. Well – Ren found. 

On second thought, sitting is uncomfortable.

_What did she mean by, ‘Confession’?_

“Honestly, Rey – I have no idea what’s going on here.”

Finn moves to the floor, since the chairs were Not. Nice. Unfortunately, the carpeting has this edged ribbing every few centimeters or so. Looks impressive – not ideal for sitting. He shifts again, deciding to just _stand_.

“I think they made this place uncomfortable on purpose.”

“You might be on to something, there.” A raspy voice comes from behind Finn. He whips around fast – not having heard anyone enter.

A Mon Calamari male stands in front of him. His large, bulbous eyes placed on each side of his head. They glisten at him in a way that seemed charmed. Or charm _ing_.

His robes are grey and carry the same geometric feel that covers this place. Panels of rectangles interwoven with embroidery of concentric circles in black and white, intersecting.

Finn knows very little about Mon Calamari as a race. He knows that they had produced some well-known strategists. He also knows they are amphibious.

This one is grey skinned, only more… burnished. Like a dusty, pale orange. He has tattoos lining the crest of his forehead, more black rectangles threaded through with white parallel lines.

He is striking.

The creature’s bottom eyelids crinkle up. Its lips don’t smile – but Finn feels like this is what this half-lidded expression equates to.

“I agree with you, completely. These chairs are just awful.” He eases down into discomfort with an irritated sigh. “I used to think that it was just that the chairs were designed for something more humanoid – but it seems you all hate them too.”

Finn… well, his train of thought has derailed.

So Yama continues.

“But, I thought about it. It’s kind of like life, isn’t it?” He sighs again, shifting his backside forward, then left on the horrid surface. “You would think that your existence should be easy. That it should be made _just for you_ , just what you need it to be. But, sometimes… most times… it’s not.

“Most times, the person who made your chair was _horrible_ at it and you’re stuck living the rest of your life in discomfort.”

Finn blinks a question mark and the Mon Calamari’s eyes crinkle again. 

“Forgive me,” he stands, seeming mildly grateful to be doing so. He nods his head slightly. “My name is Yama.”

Finn reminds himself that this might be the Bad Guy and keeps his back straight. “Finn.”

 _Crinkle._ “Finn, then – can we please go somewhere better than this excruciating room?”

His nod is sharp. “Sure. Yeah. Okay.”

_Calm down._

He thinks a sarcastic, _‘Be quiet, Rey’,_ but he knows she can’t hear him unless he speaks out loud. He's still happy for that little quirk in their connection. She’s an additional heartbeat in his chest, it seems, but can be rather quiet at times. It was always more amplified with _Him_ around, though.

He suddenly wonders if Ren’s room is just as uncomfortable as this one.

Yama slides over to a paneled door and opens it up to a bluer space. Flickers of teal and glitters of white dance on the walls and Finn hears water running. 

At the sound of it, there is a tight tug in his chest and he feels Rey _lean in._ Finn can’t help but approach the shallow pool in front of him and dip his hand into it. A sense of bliss and peace washes over him. A feeling that’s not his.

Her pulls his hands out with a quick snap.

“You’re not alone, are you?”

Finn stands fast, on his guard a bit. “My… travel companion is with me. They took him to another-“

The Monk cuts him off with a short and welcoming wave. “No, no.” The action tips up and his fingers press to the side of one eye, nearby his temple. “Up here.”

Finn bristles. That’s all he needs. Another mind reader.

And – just like that, he feels Rey melt away from him, as she always does at night. He wonders if she needs ‘sleep’, even in stasis. Not that it makes a whole lot of sense – but he’s happy to have predictable alone time. Normally.

But right now he feels abandoned.

Yama sits on a cushioned platform, dragging off boots to reveal flippered feet. He dips them into the water with another soft sigh. This one of contentment rather than displeasure. He gestures beside him. “Sit.”

Finn’s not sure why he does it. He’s quite sure he’d get a rant from Ren if he saw him, but he does it anyway. He keeps his eyes locked in an untrusting way on the creature as he pulls off his boots and sits.

He’s staring so intently that he forgets to pull up the legs of his pants when he sloshes his feet into the water.

It’s _then_ that he closes his eyes and lets out an inward groan, as his pants bloom with wetness.

Damn.

Yama laughs. It’s a barking laughter and he just about slaps his knee. His round eyes blink, then hold tightly closed as a belly laugh rolls through him.

Finn is completely off his guard now. He sucks the inside of his cheek through his teeth to stifle his own smile. As Yama’s mirth subsides, Finn relaxes a little more into the water. A pleasant moment slips around them.

Yama breaks the silence, but it’s not disturbing in the slightest. It’s as if Finn had been waiting for him to talk. “So, Finn. Will you tell me about yourself?”

And suddenly, he wants to. He wants to tell him everything. All the good things, all the bad things. All the things. But he knows enough to be wary of this feeling.

“Are you messing with my head?”

Yama’s eyes move towards the ceiling, watching the water reflect off its surface. “I’m relaxing you.”

Finn wants his hackles to rise – but they won’t.

“Seems like you already have someone in your head. Strong with the Force. If you’re worried about more of that – I won’t do that to you.” He rolls those orbs back in Finn’s direction as they crease up slightly, once more.

He holds Finn’s eyes and something like a promise flows between them. “Anything you tell me, or don’t tell me, is your choice, Finn. I will not take anything from you.”

Relief floods him. He _believes_ the Monk. It feels so good to let go for just one damn moment after the past few weeks. Past year. Past lifetime. To let go and just exist with someone. No war. No missions. No one to save.

Except maybe himself.

“Am I in danger?” Finn feels a little drunk.

“No, boy. I do not allow violence here.” He slides a bit closer and leans over, placing his claw-tipped fingers on Finn’s shoulder from a distance. “We all come from violence. But we don’t need to move forward in violence.”

That would be… wonderful.

“Would you like to tell me your confession?”

Finn’s eyes are wide and unfocused as he looks at Yama. “What do I need to confess?”

“Anything. Everything. Nothing.” He removes his hand and slides back over to his pillowed area. “You can just exist in this place, if you wish. Exist and move on – or exist and stay. I’ll be honest, though – usually those who stay do confess.”

“What happens if I confess?”

Yama sits a bit straighter and seems to look inside himself. “Then you’ll have other choices. Remember and repent. Absolution and abandon. Deposition and destruction.”

“Deposition?”

Yama’s eyes crinkle again and his voice lilts. “Yes – overthrowing the king.”

Finn blinks, not following, “Who’s the king?”

Yama’s eyes seem so wise. “Why, my boy, _you_ are.”

Finn stops and thinks for a moment. He’s not sure how to proceed. His head feels a little funny – but it’s a good kind of funny. Peaceful. Humming with softness.

The Monk’s feet swish in the water as he leans his palms on the edge, nudging forward a bit. “Most people know why they come to me, Finn. Do you know why you came to me?”

It tumbles out, but he’s glad to be rid of the secret, “Because you killed someone. Because you might be a Bad Guy.”

Yama hums a bit. “You’re talking about Rhough.”

Finn had been remiss in asking for the Chagrian’s brother’s name.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Finn – I do kill people.”

Finn’s head snaps up towards Yama, who looks otherwise unconcerned. “Actually, you could say that it’s more like I help them die.”

The Monk stands, bending to pick up his boots. Less than gracefully due to the shape of his body. “Through the door there, you’re welcome to find sleeping quarters. They’re comfortable – even by human standards.” His voice sounds mirthful again.

“Or – of course and always – you’re welcome to leave. It’s quite cold outside in this weather, though. So be warned. If you leave, Sensha will supply you with blankets, I’m sure.”

“Ren…” Finn starts. “What about…?”

Yama’s eyes tick up once more. Why does such a small movement carry such weight and warmth. “Oh, I believe your friend is already sleeping.”

“How do you know?”

Yama slides open the door to the Room of Discomfort, “I had meant to talk to him first.”

The door panel slides closed and Finn is left sitting with his feet in the water, which is seeping up his pants to his thighs. He puts his head in his hands and scrubs his eyebrows and hairline. He absently thinks that his hair is getting too long.

His head is clearing, yet he still thinks it’s a good idea to stay. At least until morning. At least until he can talk to Rey.

To Ren.

To Someone.

…To Yama.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To his word, Kylo is a light sleeper.

There is only a whisper of a sound in the corridor leading to his room when he awakens. In a swift move, he sits up, arrow-straight. Small pools of light gather in the room from clouded windows in skylights above him. It would be beautiful, if he bothered to look – but right now he silently moves himself into a fighting stance.

His hand is not on his mother’s saber… but almost. Almost.

Intelligently, whoever has approached decides to knock on the door.

“Sir Jedi.”

Kylo rolls his eyes, since no one is looking.

“Sir, may I enter?”

Kylo moves himself out of fighting stance but doesn’t make any move away from his hilt. “Come.” Curt. Perfunctory.

The pocket door slides open and a Mon Calamari sidles in. “Master – Ren? I believe?”

“Yama.” Not a question.

The alien assesses Kylo with what could be amusement or could be indigestion. It’s hard to tell. In the end, it cocks it's head around the room slightly.

“I trust you found your accommodations comfortable?”

They had been absolutely horrid. His back felt out of alignment and the crick in his neck was causing a dull ache in his head. Kylo’s tone is telling, “I slept.”

Yama’s eyes close slightly from the bottom. _That_ expression was unmistakable. It's the creature’s smile. Kylo nods deeply in reception of the expression, as was custom.

Yama’s eyes squint further, nearing closer to overjoyed. “You know our ways?”

“I was once very well acquainted with one of your race. He and my mother were colleagues.”

Yama nods sagely.

“Finn. I imagine you spoke with him already.”

“And why would you think that?”

“Because he can’t keep quiet for very long.”

Yama lets out a chuckle. “Ah, yes – he does seem to be of that type. But… a good sort of type, too. Good intentions, for what _that’s_ worth.”

Kylo cocks an eyebrow at the hint of cynicism. Then, he understands.

“He told you why we’re here. Did he play that conversation _Light side_ or _Dark side?"_ he muses, wondering if Finn had shown his fierce, violent, jump-to-conclusions temper.

“You may be disappointed to hear, Master Jedi, but your padawan didn’t play _any_ side.”

If Kylo minded the thought of Finn being his apprentice, he didn’t show it.

“How – unlike him.” He still stands, eye to eye with the Monk. Mon Calamari were tall – but Kylo was still a rival for size.

Yama gestures slightly, “Would you prefer to sit in one of these miserable chairs or would you prefer to come down and break your fast with me?”

Kylo nods towards the open door, silently affirming, _Lead the way._

“Wonderful.” The Monk gestures at another slotted door in the paneling. “You’ll find your facilities there. I shall wait for you just outside this door.”

As he slips out, Kylo assesses what he thinks the danger might be.

For him, none.

For Finn? Likely. The creature was charming… and Finn was too easily caught off guard by that sort of thing.

If he needs to kill the Mon Calamari, he will. Simple. The Temple village? That, he’d prefer to avoid. For once.

He’ll take that as progress.

Puffing a breath out and running his fingers through his sleep disheveled hair, he slips into the fresher to address the needful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where do you go at night, Rey?”

He feels some warmth rise in him – but it’s not an answer.

“I could have used you," he tries to hide the hurt from his voice at being left, unceremoniously, behind. "I think you would have liked to meet Yama. To have listened to what we talked about.” He considers, sprawled out on his _comfortable_ bedside. “It doesn’t feel like we talked about a lot – but, maybe we did.”

_Not a Bad Guy?_

“I don’t know yet. Not really. I don’t even know if he’s being honest or twisting the truth… but, it _feels_ real.”

He can feel apprehension in his chest as Rey considers.

“…I wet my pants.”

He’s not sure why he said it _like that_. He has a millisecond for his face to flush before he can feel her _snort_ and grow hysterical with glee inside him and his face splits into a smile as he laughs at himself as well.

“I mean – I put my legs in the water with my pants on; I didn’t… it wasn’t like…!” He giggles, his emotion doubling with hers.

He / They laugh for so long that his sides hurt. It shouldn’t have been _that_ funny… but, it seems that when you put his amusement and hers together…

Well, 2 + 2 = 22 in this case.

Suddenly, there is a knock on the door.

For absolutely-no-reason-whatsoever, Finn takes a pillow and holds it over his lap. Mornings are mornings, after all.

“Sir Finn? Master Yama would like to invite you to break your fast with both him and your Jedi Master. I’ll be waiting for you down the corridor.”

He feels Rey peel off into laughter again, but Finn Does. Not.

“He’s not my Master!” He chirps at the door. Not sure if they heard him, he cups a hand to his mouth and says a little louder, “Not my Master!”

His grin cracks open with Rey’s amusement.

“Switch off, Rey – seriously!”

He feels her tamper down on her merriment.

After a moment of silence, he yells out once more, “Do you guys have a ‘fresher in here?”

And Rey rolls through his chest with hysterics again.

Finn hisses, “Don’t peek…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn walks into the room behind the Elder from the previous night. Kylo notes her scars again. Looks like burn scars.

“Sensha, my friend! Thank you for bringing him. Finn, won’t you sit with us?” Yama gestures across the table from himself to where Kylo is sitting. Finn seems to be… compliant. He does so wordlessly – though he sends Kylo an odd look. He can’t place it, but it reminds him of Rey.

He wonders how deeply Rey and Finn are connected at this point.

His plate is full and he’s already starting delicately and efficiently in on the most nutritious parts – though, secretly, he's eyeing the honey butter.

“So, you came here to see what I do at my Temple – and to see if I warrant _extermination_. Yes?”

Kylo watches Finn grimace uncomfortably into his drink. Ah, so Yama has already gotten into his head. Kylo, for his part, rolls his tongue to the side around his mouth to clear it and says nothing, looking at Yama matter-of-factly.

The Mon Calamari’s orbed eyes seem to set back in his head slightly, as if pulling inward in thought. His forehead pulses a bit with his inner beat. He picks up a small tidbit of meat, chewing it methodically in his mouth for a moment before settling in on what to say next.

“Alright, then.” He scoots back from the table, crossing his hands neatly in his lap. As if this isn’t the first time he’s had to have this conversation. Even his loyal friend seems undisturbed by this turn in events.

The Monk begins simply. “There are emotions that many sentient species share. Joy. Sadness. Fear. Pain.” He pauses and looks at both Kylo and Finn, in turn. “And guilt.”

He stands up and begins a small pace around his chair, hands with their palms pressed together. “In these times of war and destruction – many of us have seen things… _done_ things that weigh on us. Things that we feel we can never overcome. It’s guilt that draws people to me. Unfathomable guilt.”

He nods towards his elderly companion and she slips silently out of the room, giving them space. Yama continues his soft and delicate pacing. “Guilt can be a great thing. But, in Galactic Basic, great has two meanings. One is positive. One just implies… enormity.

“Some’s guilt is so Great that their lives cannot return to what they were before. So Great that they’ve hit a ‘point of no return’. Those are the beings I serve.”

Sensha slips back into the room with two ornate geometric cups. One made of angles and one of circles. She places them both on the table before Yama and his eyes crinkle at her. She nods deeply and removes herself once again.

“Those who come to me are at a breaking point. They share with me their _confession._ I have no judgement. I believe there is no wrong way of life. Live. Die. Save. Kill. We all serve the Force in the end. The Force has no division between right and wrong. It simply is.”

Finn swallows and leans back in his chair.

Kylo, however, has opened his scholarly mind and is enticed by a refreshing point of view. Not a new or groundbreaking point of view, but refreshing none-the-less. He leans in, his fingers cupping his chin slightly. “And after they confess?”

Yama nods towards Finn, “Master Jedi, as I was telling your companion earlier – all have choices. All are free to come. Free to go. Free to make their own decisions. I do, however, specialize in three.”

He holds a webbed finger towards the sky, claw digging up sharply. “Remember and Repent. Sometimes, just the act of voicing one’s guilt and giving it form can be healing. I listen. Over and over again, I will listen. Until the story becomes just that. A _story._ Not an open wound set to destroy the wounded. We will talk about ways to set their wrong right. Or how to forgive the unforgivable… even if it’s _themselves_ that they have to forgive.

“And yet, sometimes – it just hurts too much. Too much for one being to take. So,” His second finger joins the first, “Absolution and abandon.”

Kylo’s eyebrows rise, “Meaning?”

“Meaning that one leaves it all behind. They give everything to this Temple. Their fortunes, their labor – their _lives._ Abandoning everything that came before.”

“And in return-“

“Yes. Absolution. I take it away. All the hurt. All the guilt. All the suffering. I take it _all._ ”

His third finger raises, and he softly shakes his hand in the air for emphasis. “Deposition and destruction.” 

Kylo intones, “Deposition?”

Finn cuts in, “The overthrowing of the king.” His eyes are down, in his lap. His mouth is firm.

Yama picks up Finn’s thread, “And each being... is his own King.” His fist finally lowers and his pacing ceases. He looks into Kylo’s eyes with unblinking meaning.

“Some beings have been the cause of mass destruction. Grief. Slaughter. Their hands so steeped in blood that they _smell_ like it. That it’s in their very _pores._

“Some come to terms with that. They accept themselves as an agent of destruction. Others… don’t. They fear themselves and the horror they inflict on others. And some, well – they just can’t stop it. The urge is like a fever. A sickness that grips them. More than just guilt from the past, these people suffer from anticipating the horrors that are to come.

“These need to overthrow themselves. They need to remove themselves from the seat of power they hold over others. And, I believe, they are within every right to destroy themselves to prevent further bloodshed...” he trails off with a solemn gesture, stepping closely towards the table.

“That’s murder.” Finn hisses.

“Suicide.” Kylo gently corrects.

Yama gestures at the chalices on the table. Hovering over the circled goblet, he gently voices, “The Waters of Shadow. Drink, and your entire past will disappear. It will be as if your previous life has never existed. You will live here with me. Work here alongside my friends. You will help spread the word that Guilt need not hold you forever.”

The next cup, he raises. It’s near violent in its angry, sharp angles. “Or, drink this – and take the Walk of Shadows. I take them through their past, piece-by-piece, horror by horror – and they relive it through the eyes of those they inflicted. This is not a peaceful journey. It is a road to ruin. It is a way to see yourself from outside yourself. To truly understand what it is that you’ve brought into this universe with you.”

“Torture by Chagrin.” Kylo bites.

“That’s what the Dark Side calls it. The other half simply calls it a Memory Walk.”

His disdain is palpable. “A placating term devised by Jedi Vindicators and their vigilantes.”

“Even so – that’s what I do. And that’s what some choose.”

Finn’s voice sounds… meek, almost. Naive. Young. Near effeminate. “Why would anyone choose that?”

Yama’s eyes crinkle in his telltale sign of amusement. “Because, my dear boy, these people believe they deserve to be punished.”

The sentence hangs in the air, heavy and uncomfortable.

“And once they complete their walk, I simply slip into their minds and snuff out their flame. Releasing them.” He sets the vile liquid back onto the table. “One could argue that I may actually be saving their future victims. Their _unnamed targets_.”

Yama takes a moment to lean his head back as he scoffs at himself, “No. Apologies. That’s the coward’s way of currying favor. No.” He sits down at the table again, shuffling his robes to make the best use of his seat.

“No, I deal in Death. And in Life. I don’t do it for the future. I don’t do it for the past. I do it for _today._ Today is the only thing I can guarantee that I have.” His eyes crinkle at them again, “Of course, depending on you gentlemen, I may not even have _that._ ”

Finn’s voice sputters to life again. It’s high pitched and unnatural, but also fierce. His eyes _bore_ into Yama’s - no longer brown - but hazel-green. Kylo knows those eyes. 

”We need to have a conversation. In person. Now.”

And, to Kylo – it was only moments before it was over. But to Rey, Finn and Yama… it was actually _much longer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who might wonder What happened / where I’m going with this: Rey jumped forward and spoke through Finn. As she did with Chewie that one time.
> 
> In our next installment, Rey will have sucked both Yama and Finn into her space in the desert sand to confront Yama directly. :) 
> 
> That’s all I can tell you for now! <3
> 
> In Buddhism, Yama (Sanskrit: यम) is a dharmapala, a wrathful god or the Enlightened Protector of Buddhism that is considered worldly, said to judge the dead and preside over the Narakas ("Hell" or "Purgatory") and the cycle of rebirth.
> 
>  _Also see_ : The Eight Limbs of Yoga: Around 150 BCE, the sage Patanjali outlined eight steps to living well in the classical Indian yoga text, the "Yoga Sutras." This eightfold path of yoga leads to self-realization through the unification of body, mind, and spirit. According to Patanjali, the eight limbs of yoga are:
> 
> "Yama" — Sanskrit for "moral discipline"  
> "Niyama" — Sanskrit for "moral observance"  
> "Asana" — Sanskrit for "body posture"  
> "Pranayama" — Sanskrit for "breath control"  
> "Pratyahara" — Sanskrit for "withdrawal of the senses"  
> "Dharana" — Sanskrit for "concentration"  
> "Dhyana" — Sanskrit for "meditation"  
> "Samadhi" — Sanskrit for "bliss"


	10. Walk of Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***********This one has **very graphic imagery of the torture of children**. Please be aware.***************** 
> 
> If you'd like to avoid that part, please skip Yama's backstory. After he says, "Will you hear my confession..."
> 
> You can pick the thread back up at the line, "Kylo offers no shred of comfort."

Art by [Serafleur](https://www.deviantart.com/serafleur)

_________________

It’s hard to describe this feeling. Living inside someone. Watching through their eyes. Hearing through their ears. Even so, she still doesn’t hear his thoughts. Or feel what he feels. Though _he_ seems to feel _her_ …

Rey’s watching Finn’s lap as his fingers twiddle around. He must be uncomfortable or – maybe anxious?

That creature – she’s never seen one before. Its eyes are over-large and its head reminds her of a double sided hammer.

Yama. Everything that's coming from its mouth upsets her. It's speaking so simply – as if talking about the weather.

“Some beings have been the cause of mass destruction. Grief. Slaughter. Their hands so steeped in blood that they _smell_ like it. That it’s in their very _pores._ Some come to terms with that. They accept themselves as an agent of destruction.”

She can barely stomach listening. It reminds her too much of _Kylo Ren._ She’d never witnessed his mass destruction firsthand – but she’d heard. And heard. Is this what Ben had done? Simply accepted his blood-thirst? Become an ‘agent of destruction’?

He had. He’s admitted as much in one of their early dreams. What had he said?

_“You can’t just pretend that I’m someone else. That I haven’t done the things I’ve done. That I don’t -feel- the way I do. The pull to the Dark. The violence. It's part of me. You can’t just carve it out. You can't just pretend it's not there. You can’t just want me for my -potential-.”_

As much as she’s loathe to admit it, that's exactly what she’s been doing. In her mind, Kylo Ren and Ben Solo were two completely different people. It had never dawned on her that they had merged too far together to be separated. Melted together and hardened into a new breed of rare metal.

_“Everyone pretends that I am who -they want me to be-. No one cares to see who I really am. Both sides. All sides. No one ever just wants… me.”_

And who is he, now? The terrifying murderer? The beautiful man who shows her his dreams? Someone in the middle? All of the above?

Does he feel this Great Guilt?

She tunes back into the conversation to hear about the vicious memory walk and again imagines Kylo. Ben. Her Ben. What would it be like for him to witness the deaths he’d caused?

She has to admit to herself that he might not care. He was a solider of war, if nothing else. There was only one death that truly haunted him.

Han.

What if he had to bear the betrayal and pain through the body and mind of his father? The longing hope for reconciliation crushed. The final act of love as he caressed the face of his son.

He wouldn’t be able to bear it. How could _anyone_ bear it?

She can’t help it. She _pulls forward_ into Finn. She moves his mouth and their voices merge. “Why would anyone choose that?”

Yama’s eyes crinkle. It keeps doing that. “Because, my dear boy, these people believe they deserve to be punished.”

And – that she could understand. When she’d almost killed… Ben… she thought to exile herself on Ahch-to. That she deserved to be punished.

Her mind inside of Finn’s stutters to hear that Yama would then… kill them. Kill the people who were so tormented that they came to him for _help._

How could he?

Anger rips through her, and so through Finn. She can feel her vision _clear._ No longer seeing _through_ Finn’s eyes.

They are her eyes now.

And they are ablaze.

She stares at the creature before her and hisses, “We need to have a conversation. In person. Now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rey stands fiercely in the sand as it whips around her feet. This… Monk… stands before her, robes flicking up in the winds. Hands are raised to protect its enormous eyes from the desert R’iia is throwing their way.

Or maybe it’s not R’iia.

Maybe it’s Rey.

Her fury compounds.

Finn stands off to the side. His surprise is visible, and she can feel him _in her_ , now. In this place, their roles have switched. She feels him as if he were in her heart. Questioning. Confused. His adrenaline spiking.

And so hers does too.

Exponentially.

“Rey!” Finn calls out, making to take strides towards her – but she holds her hand out to stop him, not even turning her head in his direction. The other hand twirls her quarterstaff into fighting stance and her feet spread further apart to balance her weight.

“You use the Force to do this? To sneak into their heads? To _murder_ these people who come to you for help?”

Yama now curls its arms over its eyes, squeezing them shut pitifully. Its mouth is closed firmly on itself, like it’s sewn shut. The grains graze across its skin like sandpaper.

There is no conversation like this.

Rey closes her eyes and centers herself. The whipping wind and dust _freeze_ in the air and hang, causing a shroud of debris between them. Like gauze.

When she looks up once more, the Mon Calamari’s eyes have also opened, though its arms remain raised in a defensive position. It breathes out, panting in fear. “You’re the one in his mind.”

She juts her chin out. “And you’re the killer we’ve come for.”

Rey feels Finn’s conflict. Unsure if he should step in to calm – whatever this confrontation was. Rey’s heart grows hard… it’s like Finn had been corrupted.

She stalks, her staff held pointing diagonally at the ground. There is a wave rolling off the Monk. Something familiar. Something like the very air around them. “It feels like you have one foot in your plane and one on mine. Is that how you do what you do?”

Yama’s arms start to lower. “I don’t know how I do it. I only know that I do.”

“The drinks? What have you made?”

The Monk’s honesty bleeds through. “They’re nothing. I use them to give people the chance to turn back. They make the decision to drink – and that’s when I slip into their minds. The drinks themselves are only symbolic.”

She still circles it like a predator, biting out, “No matter a person’s past – they can grow _beyond_ themselves. They can change. They can still do good.” She points her staff right at those enormous eyes, “but they have to refuse to give up first.”

Her voice drops to a hiss, “You _encourage_ them to give up. You _convince_ them.”

“I _listen._ I leave all options open. It’s never my decision to make!”

It pauses. And in that minute, Yama’s eyes grow wiser.

“Are you afraid that I’ll convince… someone?” Its eyes flick to Finn, assessing. “No – not you…” Its eyes focus on Rey again, “…Master Ren?”

Rey’s staff slices down towards the sand, making a whipping sound and her lip curls up in a sneer. She thinks of Ben as his bare fingers caressed her cheek in their first dream. Even before then, on the floor in Exegol. He’d resigned himself to dying. In those moments, he’d _wanted_ to die.

Her heart hurts and her eyes can’t help but prickle with moisture.

“You – you reek of ruin, young lady. It’s amazing that you’ve managed to stave off death for so long.” Its eyes do that _crinkling_ thing that sets her nerves on edge as it glances around her space in the Jakku sands. “I can help you let go of this purgatory.”

Its voice takes on deep meaning as it instigates, “I’m _very_ good at that.”

And Rey lunges.

She feels him before she sees him, but Finn flings himself between the two – arms up and pleading.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” His palms face her and his fingers are splayed.

“I know that you’re gonna be here for a _long_ haul Rey – but we need to stay _Light._ Yama said everyone he works with knows the consequences and chooses their path. And sometimes – that path is just to walk away. To do just what you’re saying.”

Finn’s stance softens, “I don’t agree with his methods – I’ll _never_ agree with them… but he’s not the Bad Guy we wanted him to be.” His voice becomes soothing as he repeats, “He’s not the right kind of Bad Guy.”

He takes a deep breath and tries to push his calm to her over their bond. “We _all_ need to stay light. Kylo Ren is _never_ going to get far on his own – he’s going to have to draw from us, like he did with the Holocron. And, because of that, we Have. To. Stay. _Light.”_

Yama takes a slight step back behind Finn. “Wait…” Its mouth is agape, and its clawed fingers make their way to its chest. “Master Ren… is _Kylo Ren?_ ”

Their hearts freeze in Rey’s chest and the Force vision breaks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo sees Finn’s body lurch in his seat before toppling over onto the table. Across from him, Yama also collapses, though he’s fairing better. His hand is over his heart and he is panting madly.

Kylo’s eyes are wide as he grabs his colleague, roughly pressing a finger to his pulse point. Satisfied momentarily, he scowls at Yama.

His chest is heaving, “Your young lady friend is quite _fierce_.”

Kylo bristles – but also feels a sense of pride. “And…?”

“And she’s afraid I’ll convince you to do the Walk of Shadows,” The Monk works himself back up into a sitting position, still grasping his chest and breathing hard.

Kylo pushes his dark hair back from his brow line with a small huff through his nose. He likely deserves to. There was a brief moment when he might have even chosen that path, if it had been offered. But that time has passed.

Finn lays unconscious with no intention of rousing any time soon.

“Are you really Kylo Ren?”

His eyes lock on the Monk’s moist orbs as his lips twist into something Dark.

There they are...

...Yama’s last words.

He flashes to a stand and his hand whips to his belt.

Before the motion is complete, Yama holds out a hand and yelps, “Wait! I hold no judgement. All paths are valid. All paths serve the Force.” His chest continues to heave as Kylo’s hand stays just above the hilt of his saber. “And I won’t tell anyone.” Yama’s eyes squint slightly. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

The Darksider can feel himself being compelled into a calm reverie but waves it off. “That won’t work with me.”

The Monk’s eyes crinkle again. “You can’t blame me for trying.”

His breath is calming. His hand it still out, claws curling, but his voice is steady. “I don’t pretend to be the moral high ground. I _have_ no moral high ground.”

“What’s your endgame?”

Yama’s hand drops into his lap. “I want… I want someone to take this place over for me.” His face tips to the ceiling. “I’ve asked Sensha so many times – but she can’t bear to let me do the Walk of Shadows.”

Kylo is surprised to hear that she could do it; it’s a specialized skill within the Force. It took him years to learn it – and he still doesn’t do it well. He can't always bring people out of it. Still, he does not miss the key point.

“Why would _you_ want to do the Walk of Shadows?”

The sigh he hears is a pained one. There was a heavy pause between them as the Mon Calamari debates internally. When he speaks again, his voice is soft. “Will you hear my confession, Kylo Ren?”

Kylo removes his hand from the hilt of his mother’s blade but refuses to retake his seat. He merely nods curtly and the creature begins.

“I was quite poor. No food, no water – no anything. For days at a time. I was in a slum city that was teeming with abandoned humanoid children. They never knew quite what to make of me, so they followed me as a curiosity. I became… fond of them. Two especially.

“We all had to steal to eat – but you had to be crafty. The New Republic’s officers were cracking down – but one of their officers was _not right_. Sadistic. Punishments were no longer jail time. No longer just corporal punishment. They became _horrors_.

“There was one shop everyone tended to hit really hard. The owner was cruel, so the children and I thought it only fair to give him back some of his cruelty. Especially if it meant food in our stomachs.

“One day – the shop keeper made a bit of a production of reaching out to this Sadistic Officer, begging him for support. The Officer saw it as an opportunity to sate an… urge of his. He claimed, loud-and-proud, near screaming in the plaza square – that anyone found stealing from that man would be flayed alive.

“Of course, people thought is was just a threat. And those that didn't always think that they’ll never be caught. I was of that opinion – but my two children friends _weren't._ We had gone a week without food. The only water came with the rain and we were growing weaker. I knew I had to do it - and that one owner just happened to have the shop that was easiest to steal from. No matter how much my little friends tried to stop me – I wouldn’t listen.

“I was seen – and the owner sent guards after me. Accidentally, I led them back to my children.

“The Sadistic Officer was _there_. He nearly cooed at us, reminding us of the consequences. He said that the first of us to let him know who the culprit was would be spared.

“I was terrified.

“And so I said the boy did it.”

Yama’s voice cracks and Kylo feels a vicious revulsion rise in him.

“The Sadistic Officer took both the boy _and_ the girl to the center of the square. I was brought along with them… to be made to _watch_.”

His eyes are wet now. “You may have killed a great many people, Kylo Ren, but I’m guessing they were quick deaths?”

Kylo nods.

“These were not. The officer… took his time.”

Kylo’s scowl drags deeper.

“Their skin peeled off like the fruit we'd always dream about. They were screaming. Always screaming. And then – he’d let them fester for hours before continuing with his work. Just enough that the old pain wouldn’t dull them to the next.

“I was bound. On my knees. I remember feeling the pain of my numbing legs and letting that take precedence in my mind over my friends' suffering. It was disgusting. _I_ was disgusting.

“But I never took back what I’d said. I never told them it was me.”

Yama’s breath shudders now, and wetness from his tears rolls from his eyes down his neck. Kylo’s vision locks on the table. He can’t bear to look into the creature’s face.

“And it didn’t stop there. They started purging all the children. One by one. Until everyone got so used to the sounds of screams that we barely heard them anymore. The worst of us would be waiting in the square as the madman did his work... so we could gather the skins..." his breath hitched and shook, "to make leather.

“Because it was a way to earn money to eat.”

And with that, Yama’s eyes shut and he turns to shuddering sobs.

Kylo offers no shred of comfort. His mouth is filled with bitter bile.

“You see? I’m _not_ righteous.” He pauses, raking in an unsteady breath. “The truth is that these people ask for death, but that's not why I kill them.

“I kill them because their memories remind me of that _monster._ My own _cowardice._

“And I do it because of the hate in my heart.”

Moments pass and Yama slowly, very slowly, quiets. He leans his head back onto the chair's headrest. Once composure has traveled icily down the creature’s features, he intones, “Even so, I believe that good things come from the work I do. I believe that, even after I’m gone, _someone_ should do it. Save people from the hell they’re living in on this plane of existence.”

Kylo is silent. For a long time, he is silent. He glances at Finn, who has yet to move, but holds no concern. Rey and he had likely exhausted each other with whatever they had done.

Taking his disgust for the Mon Calamari out of the picture, he can’t deny a certain appeal to what this temple offers to The Guilty. In some ways, no price is too great for the price of _peace_. Internal peace.

Kylo knows what it’s like to live without peace.

In that moment, he knows what he has to do.

“If you want to be punished – then _live._ Living is punishment enough.” Kylo stands, lifting Finn callously over his shoulder and readying to go.

Yama looks at him, his eyes somehow _widening_. He breathes, “Your young woman and padawan will not like you leaving me alive.”

Kylo moves forward without looking back and simply states, “I do a great many things they don’t like.”

After a moment’s thought, Kylo turns around and gently passes his hand before Yama’s eyes.

”You will forget my name.”

And so he does

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn awakens on the Falcon, propped up in the co-pilot’s seat. His head feels fuzzy as he looks at Ren, “Where…?”

“I can only imagine how _put-out_ the Wookie will be when we finally return with his ship.”

Finn curses, realizing they’d left him on his own all night to fend for himself.

He curses again.

Suddenly, his eyes fly open. “Yama? Did you kill him?”

Kylo’s lips purse and he make a small show of pushing buttons that don’t really do anything.

“I left the Monk to his followers.” He casts a pointed stare at Finn, “Next time, we should find a clearer target.”

Finn sighs and puts his face in his hands. Rey is rumbling around in his heart – and he feels pride surge in him - Ren hadn’t killed the creature.

But is that Rey’s feeling or his? Rey had clearly wanted the Monk dead… so does that mean the pride is coming from _him?_

“I don’t think I can hate you anymore.”

Ren’s eyebrows crease. He opens his mouth to say something, but Finn cuts him off.

“But I don’t know if that feeling is _mine_ or if it comes from _Rey_. Her feelings – they bleed over into mine. I can’t tell the difference, sometimes. I don't know if anything I feel is _real."_

A certain amount of guilt rolls in his stomach. _This_ feeling is clearly his. He’d seen Ren in action. He’d seen him order the slaughter of innocents. How could he have _any_ positive feelings about this man? 

Ren’s voice is soft when he interrupts Finn’s train of thought. “Does it matter if it’s real? Our goals are aligned. Everything else is of no consequence.” He pauses. “You can hate me again later.”

Somehow, relief floods through Finn.

And, yes, they should pick a better target next time.


	11. The Red Water of Dathomir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** Please note ***  
> This chapter also includes torture and blood. If you would prefer not to read that, I recommend skipping this chapter. That being said, I'm very proud of what I've written, and I hope that those of you who brave it are well rewarded! <3 
> 
> The next chapter will have -no- torture. Just for those who are keeping count. :)

  


Art by [Chun-lo](https://www.artstation.com/chunlo)

_________________

To his credit, Chewie doesn’t punch New Boy. He only threatens.

_Not_ to his credit, he tries to throw _Stupid_ Boy into a wall.

And, to _Stupid Boy’s_ credit, it... doesn’t happen. Agile, that one.

Stupid, stupid, _STUPID_ Boy. Chewbacca growls in his own mind.

All in all, he’s fairly livid that New Boy even let him _touch_ the controls of the Falcon (against his word). Not to mention the fact that they abandoned him on this backwater planet with NO CLUE where they were. No comms. No _nothing._

Almost no one speaks Shyriiwook. In the whole Galaxy. Never mind just _here._

He had to find protocol droids. Noisy, talkative _protocol droids._

How DARE they take his ship?

How DARE they leave him behind with barely enough credits for food and shelter?

And - he can’t help himself - how DARE they make him worry so badly? They could have been…

He waves the thought away.

He's getting old. Friend did this kind of thing when he was alive. But, always to others. Never to _him._ They were a team. You don’t leave your team _behind_.

STUPID boys. Both boys.

Chewie sighs, leaning himself back in the pilot’s chair, now that he’s officially thrown everyone else out of the cockpit.

They have to stay on-planet one more night to get his new shipment into the cargo hold – and he is seriously considering just sleeping right-here-in-this-chair until then.

To make sure there is no more… thievery. 

It seems that even _grown_ human males act like pups.

At least, all the ones he's known have.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo paces in the med-bay before his cot. Though his eyes find Rey’s body time-and-again, his thoughts aren’t on her.

They’re on Yama. Specifically, Yama’s little _friends._ His gut has been rolling with that thought all day.

Yes, he kills people. But – no – that wasn’t killing. That was something _much_ worse. Subjugation. Affliction. A purgatory of pain. He can’t even fathom the agony and suffering those children endured. Not just Yama’s friends – but _all_ the children.

Suddenly, he wants to be sick. He’s felt his flesh pull from his muscle. He _knows_ what that feels like. But to imagine it slowly. Over his whole body.

Over days…

His revulsion knows no bounds. He paces until the movement makes no sense any more and he lowers himself down onto the bed, looking at her again.

Rey.

He’d invited her into his dreams tonight. But, with his state of mind like this… what would she see?

He won’t sleep. He’s gone days without sleep, so he finds no issue with this.

He goes to stand again but feels something… _pull_ him.

His head feels fuzzy suddenly. Like he’s been drugged. He hasn’t, but that’s the only way he can think to describe it. He tries to lift himself again, only to fall back onto his cot.

He feels a… a beckoning.

Ah, then he understands.

Rey is calling him.

He doesn’t want to go – but it seems he has no choice.

He closes his eyes and prays, _Let’s get this over with quickly._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Dream.

A Nightmare.

_“GET OUT!”_ he screams. Raw. Pounding. Terrifying.

Rey opens her eyes in the mind of Ben Solo.

All around her is _red._ It’s in the sky, it’s in the land, in the trees, in the light.

There’s no water.

She’s near breathless, “Where are we?”

Ben’s footfalls are menacing and heavy. He reaches her in a few strides, grasping her by the wrist and spinning her to face him. His face is frantic with fury… and, underneath it… panic. Fear.

Horror.

He hisses at her, gripping tight enough to leave bruises, “Not here. Not _now._ Not _this._ ” He throws her arm back at her before moving away, shaking his head. Narrowed eyes trained on her.

“I don’t want you here.”

She holds steady, tracing his face with her sight. He’s younger. Softer, somehow.

He drops himself into his telltale fighting stance and flicks out a lightsaber.

_His_ lightsaber.

The crackling hum is familiar, and yet a jolt of shock still runs through her. The blade spits to life, the side-sparks igniting quickly after.

Confusion roils in her stomach. In her mind.

But she doesn’t show it.

She steels herself, falling into a strong stance, jutting her chin up in a challenge. “You invited me here.”

He nearly spits, “A _stupid_ mistake.”

Rey’s back is ramrod straight. “What don’t you want me to see, Ben?” She surveys around them. This place is menacing. “Are we in a nightmare?”

He scoffs, twirling his blade in the air, face twisting into a vicious smirk as he firms up his stance. “Oh, no, Rey. We’re just where you want us to be. We’re in a memory of _water_.” His smirk turns into a scowl, “Just not one of the memories from _Ben Solo.”_

One of his feet shuffles back and forth in the dirt, getting a foothold in place for a lunge.

“LEAVE!” He screams.

Then, in a broken voice that hides underneath his rage, “I don’t want you to _see this.”_

Rey is silent for a moment – letting the tension draw out between them. She could leave. In fact, in a way, all she wants to _do_ is leave. Go back to a sweet place. Sweet dreams of a sweeter life with Ben.

Her Ben.

Wait.

… _Wait._

“Ben.” Rey says, firmly, taking one step in his direction. He tenses, like a hare on the verge of darting. Whether towards her or away from her, she’s not sure.

“We talked once – about how no one sees you for who you really are.”

His sneer tells her that he remembers.

“I told you then – I want to see you. Know you. The _real_ you.”

His narrowed eyes suddenly soften. She knows that he needs to hear someone say this. That it's _always_ been what he’s needed. And she means it.

“Light parts. Dark parts.”

She takes another step forward when she sees his blade sag in the air – like it was suddenly too heavy to hold.

“All parts, Ben.”

The red of his saber retracts with a hiss.

All of a sudden, her vision shifts hard enough to give her vertigo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Instead of the barren wasteland, she’s now looking through a copse of dead-ish trees at a cave entrance. To the side is a small village of huts and tents. All is silent. All is still.

Still red.

_Everything_ is red.

“Welcome to Dathomir.”

The voice sounded – strange. Hauntingly familiar.

She turns behind her and almost shrieks when she sees him looming over her.

In the Mask.

That horrible, frightening black Mask.

His voice is playfully sarcastic, “Don’t like what you see? Well – you’re in for a treat, then. You’re about to see quite a few things I don’t expect you to like.” His head nods forward and she sees… him. Another him. A _second_ him. Still in the Mask.

The _other_ Kylo Ren is creeping low – nearly squatting. Silent. She doesn’t hear even a whisper.

Behind her, she hears Ben’s modulated voice. “Snoke sent me here to retrieve a Darkside artifact. I could sense it - in this cave system.”

She has the oddest sensation of being _pulled_ forward, without even moving. The scenery _sucks_ her toward Kylo Ren, and thus she remains behind him without moving. Following a distance behind him, like a specter.

Her Ben’s electronic voice croons from behind her. “They didn’t just _possess_ an artifact. No.”

She turns over her shoulder to see the curve of his chin as it tucks underneath the metal plating. He drops his head so she’s eye-level with his visor. “No, they were _making_ them.”

“How-“

He cuts her off with a shushing sound, simply bringing his mask up to watch ‘himself’ in the distance.

Her body motionlessly follows behind the second Kylo Ren as he weaves softly through a tunnel system in the caves. There are so many twists and turns that she’s more than forgotten her way. It’s worse than a circuit board – because there is no sense to the paths. They just cut in and out at random.

It’s a maze.

She hears a small whimper and the Kylo Ren before her drops into stance, his body rigid and waiting for action. The quiet is again broken by a soft sound, followed by a coo of… comfort?

Kylo Ren keeps his weapon in his hand, but the blade remains silent as he stalks silently towards the sound.

And she follows.

At first, all she can see is his rigid spine as he stands up to his full height in front of her. His shoulder blades seem to be curling back on one another and his mask points down towards the ground.

Then she sees them.

The children.

They are emaciated. Their skin is sallow and sucks in under their eyes. There are four of them… and they all look the same. Like – twins… only more of them. She doesn’t know the word…

They are restrained. Caged. Rigged up to an intravenous system that filtered through machines and pumps and monitors. Unexpectedly high-tech for a village of huts. Still, she notices, instead of something going in… something was coming _out._

It was clear. Gathering in little vials.

Ben’s computerized voice echoes out, “Midichlorians. They’re being _drained_ of the very thing that grants us access to the Force.”

“Is that how they made the objects you came here for?”

Ben doesn’t reply – but the answer is clear.

A scream is heard behind her and she whips around, only to have people plowing _through_ her. As if she were made of _air._

They are dressed sparsely, and their faces are painted. Males rush in first, but female warriors also hover behind. They are readying… projectiles of some sort. Some contraption she’s never seen.

One shoots past her, making her about-face.

The electric bolt ricochets off the red lightsaber, which can’t help but graze the cave walls in this narrow place. Kylo Ren’s power is unmistakable. He’s _throwing_ the men around like rag dolls. Still, something is happening that she didn’t predict.

He’s not killing them.

He’s shoving them away. Hurting them, to be sure. But he’s presented with opening after opening after opening.

And he doesn’t take any of them.

More bolts whistle through the air from behind. They pass through her and she grasps at herself, as if to ensure her own safety. Her head jerks up to Ben’s masked face – but he’s staring stoically forward, as if none of this matters.

Kylo Ren deflects wave after wave after wave of bolts, keeping himself firmly in front of the cage.

Is he…?

Is he protecting the children?

She has no time to voice the question, as something flies through the air alongside the electric destruction. She doesn’t even see it.

Apparently neither does Kylo Ren.

It strikes him, piercing right into his shoulder.

A Dart.

They’ve _darted_ him.

All of a sudden, Kylo Ren’s body starts to sag. Rey can nearly _feel_ him drawing on the darkness within himself to keep standing… but there doesn’t seem to be enough.

Why isn’t there enough?

When he goes down, it’s not a slow thing. He hits his knees hard and his body careens forward.

Rey can’t help it. She makes a move to lurch forward and try to catch him – but Ben grabs her arm, tightly.

“No.” He says, simply, still watching himself with a sick and detached fascination. “You can’t change anything that happens here.”

There is another nauseating shift and suddenly – she doesn’t _see_ Kylo Ren.

She _is_ Kylo Ren.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world is upside down all around her and her head pounds. She tries to wrestle against unknown restraints and can feel her body swaying side to side. Her hair – his hair – pooling around her head.

_Where is my Mask…_ she can’t help but think. Her head is swimming and she feels something trickle along her scalp.

Trying to get her bearings, she looks around her. There are men and women, sitting in a circle around her. Him. Them.

Their arms rest on the shoulders of their neighbors until they form one giant chain. One that rocks and sways to their chanting.

Chanting...? Her head clears enough to take in sound.

_Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH_

They rock back and forth, back and forth. It’s hypnotic and her head gets fuzzy again as that trickling feeling begins to _drip_ instead.

_Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH_

What does that phrase mean? It’s there – on the tip of Kylo Ren’s mind… and she touches it…

...before being _wrenched_ from him, finding herself panting before the Masked version of her Ben. In front of her, she sees Kylo Ren. Tied up. Hanging by his ankles. Upside down.

A reed has been inserted into the vein in his pulse point – and he’s…

Oh Gods…

They’re _draining him._

His blood flows down below him into a basin leading to more tubing and machinery.

They’re taking from him what they’re taking from the children.

_Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH - Lohitaḥ ApaH_

She shifts her hand to her mouth and stifles a cry of horror. She knows what they’re saying now.

_Red Water – Red Water – Red Water – Red Water – Red Water_

Blood.

Ben’s modulator crackles, “This was the first time I’d ever done anything like this…”

And before she has a chance to ask, she _feels_ it. Darkness wells in the room like she’s never felt before. Even the natives have silenced and seem to be staring at Kylo Ren’s body.

His face is pained. His grimace is palpable as the veins stick out on his neck and forehead. His teeth _clench,_ eyes nearly rolling back in his head. Somehow, even in his position, his body crunches into itself, bending at the waist.

His body shoots out into a straight line as he lets out a horrible _roar._ His binds shred around him, but before he can topple, the air grabs him and he just _hovers._

Around him, the shockwave he lashed out with has sent the room full of people sprawling on their backs. The ones nearest to him were dead. Gone. Bleeding from their ears, noses… eyes.

The others start to scatter – but Kylo Ren is having none of that.

Not now.

Not ever again.

He doesn’t even need his blade.

One after the other, he lifts his fists up – pulling one to him, shoving one away, snapping the neck of another, mashing the insides of one more.

His hands move, as if in a dance. Each movement ending with a snap as another life was cut off.

Flick, grasp, push, claw… over and over and over again.

Until they are dead

Until they are all dead.

Kylo Ren pauses for a moment as his breath begins to steady. He wavers on his feet slightly before bringing his hand up and _popping_ the reed out from his neck.

The bleeding is immediate, and it runs down his neck into his cowl. He grunts but does not fall. Rey feels that welling of Dark energy again and Kylo Ren seems to gather it into himself. His eyes snap open and he thrusts the reed into the ground so _hard_ that it sticks, twanging upright.

Rolling his body to look behind him, he finds the basin of blood. His blood.

Rey can almost hear Kylo Ren’s mind whisper. _They can’t have it._

Before she can really understand what he’s doing, Kylo is leaning into the basin and _lifting_ the blood out into his palms, like water.

Red water.

She feels sick. All around them is the smell of metal.

He begins to smear it on himself. As if to reclaim what was rightfully his. In his hair, on his face, on his clothes. His mouth is stiff in a scowl and the liquid on him seems to gather into clots and _drip._ It’s like he is painting himself.

Sticky and dark – darker than she’s even seen him.

Kylo Ren stands, waving slightly once more, before turning on his heels and feeling his way through the Force.

Rey feels that surreal _pulling_ again.

She is with him when he finds his weapon. She is with him when he reclaims his helmet. She is with him when he finds his artifact. She is with him when he finds his way back to the children.

The children…

Kylo Ren approaches the bars to their medical cell and simply wrenches them apart with the Force. He is steeped in it.

The children quiver as he undoes their bindings. Their needles. Their monitors.

As he releases them, they fall – so weak. He catches them. Setting each one down carefully, before moving to the next. But they are afraid of him.

Because he is Red like the sky.

COME.

Rey feels the command in her chest like a hammer.

COME HERE, KYLO REN.

“Snoke,” she gasps. Not a question.

Kylo Ren’s visor tips up. It’s as if he’s a puppet on a string. He gives the children not-another-thought as he drifts from the cell.

COME HERE, MY BOY.

Like a siren is calling him, he goes.

And, this time, Rey is not dragged behind him.

Ben stands stoically, his hands locked together behind his back. He, too, is drenched in his own blood. The stink of it fills her nostrils. She can _taste_ it.

She tips her head towards the children. “What happens to them?”

“Snoke’s ship retrieves me… and then he bombs the facility.”

Horror floods through her. “He _kills_ them?”

Ben says nothing.

“What happens to _you?”_

Mechanically, as if reporting statistics, “I was punished for wasting resources.”

“What _possible_ resources could you have…?”

He nods curtly towards the children. “ _Emotional_ resources.”

She feels him then. All the way down to her toes. There are too many feelings. She can’t pull them apart from one another.

FutilityTriumphTerrorSicknessDeathFearSadness

LossOfControlAbsoluteControl

DefeatVictoryShamePrideHopelessnessHopelessnesHoplessness

Rey steps into the nightmare-memory. No longer satisfied to be just a spectator.

She passes a glance at her Ben, hiding beneath his mask. His Armor. His _shell._ She touches a hand to his chest and takes a moment to stare into his visor. She knows that his eyes are emotional behind it. She doesn’t even have to see him to know. They must be deep pools of sadness. And _need._

There are a great many things that this man _needs._

She steps towards the children and they react as if she’s really there.

They reach their weak arms up to her in supplication and she gathers them. She doesn’t know their language, but she hopes her tone is soothing as she whispers nonsense to calm them.

With all four of them held tightly against her in her lap, she closes her eyes…

And FLOODS the cave with _Light._

Rey can feel her body fill with it.

The children can feel it, too.

She taps into the Force within herself. The Force within _the children._ The Force within Ben, the cave, the dead world outside… _everything._

Rey looks into the faces of those four as they become peaceful. Their hands find each others’ as they nestle more closely into Rey. She touches each of their faces in turn, eliciting small smiles from each…

… before they disappear into the Force.

And then the Light fades back and she and Ben are alone again.

He is still towering over her, bloody and faceless.

“This isn’t real, _Scavenger._ And, even if it was – what’s the difference between what you did and what Snoke will do?”

Rey looks off distantly. “The difference is - the way I made them feel when they went.”

Her face turns to his with a look of sorrow and love in her eyes. “And, in this way, I honored your intent. In this way… I _saved_ them.”

There is a pause - and Rey finally understands it. She understands why Yama does what he does. Death... is sometimes salvation.

Suddenly, a great earthquake shakes the ruby dirt beneath them. It's like Starkiller. Her eyes try to find Ben's, but they're hidden. Like his heart is hidden. All under that Mask.

The red earth begins to tear away in a heart-rending split. Rey is being torn from the dream... but, before it can completely rip her away, she sees it. Her eyes are on Ben and she _sees it._

His Mask _shatters_.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo awakens in the Med-bay, curled in on himself like a child. His eyes go to Rey's lifeless body. He slowly, carefully reaches out to hold her hand. His fingers caress through hers until they're completely intertwined.

It's only then that his tears come.


	12. I'll Make it Worth Your While

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be rude of me. 
> 
> I've gotten more "hits" on this story then I could ever imagine. So many that it seems... super unrealistic! (#LowSelfEsteem lol!) I imagine that a bunch of people clicked in and then... well... clicked out. :D 
> 
> If you're still reading this, would you mind leaving Kudos? That way, I can try to tell how many readers are still with me!! :) 
> 
> OF COURSE! Don't feel pressure! If you don't think I've earned it yet, don't give it! 
> 
> Kudos are like love <3 You don't give it away for free <3 
> 
> (Wait... did I just reference prostitution...?) 
> 
> Anywho... ONWARD!

  
  


Art by [William Forbes](https://www.marvel.com/comics/creators/12922/william_forbes) from [ Star Wars: Lando - Double or Nothing (2018) #5](https://www.marvel.com/comics/issue/69614/star_wars_lando_-_double_or_nothing_2018_5)

_________________

“What the hell do you mean, ‘I can’t do it’?!?”

Rey _comes forward_ and dives Finn’s hands back down into the circuitry to start to repair the sparks. Finn flinches as a sizzley one grazes his face.

Chewie balks and gestures at the paneling below the floor grates, wanting to urge Finn out of the way, but knowing his enormous paws weren’t the best for this kind of work.

What he said sounded something like, “I’m on a calendar for this delivery.” Calendar? Maybe… timetable? Still – his Shyriiwook was improving. 

Finn feels a TUG in his chest as he hears a hiss in his mind,

_Concentrate._

“Damnit, Rey.” He flicks his hand up with a twitch when he gets sparked again.

 _Pay attention and we can -avoid- that._ She scolds him.

Ren sidles in and leans his shoulder against the wall up above him. “Trouble?”

Finn swears under his breath. This was hard enough without that Bastard standing over him. Literally. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

Finn doesn’t bother looking at Ren, but he hears him asking Chewie about it. They seem to be on speaking terms – but only when push comes to shove. Otherwise, all the Wookie does is throw Ren out of the cockpit.

Finn stifles a grin.

He only catches snippets of the conversation as he’s too busy listening to Rey talk to herself about what might be wrong. Evidently that’s what’s happening above him, as well.

“Do you think it’s the…” And Chewie answers with something unintelligible. “Gods, you haven’t even replaced…?” Followed by a frustrated howl that sounded close to violence. “… Junk piece of trash.” Followed by a near-shriek in Shyriiwook.

Ren drops down through the grating with a put-out sort of sigh. He watches Finn in action, which spikes his annoyance Thank-you-very-much.

He actually seems… impressed. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

Finn feels Rey swell with pride within him. He can’t help but scowl. “It’s not me.”

Ren’s lips twitch up. Why can’t the man just _smile_ already?

He watches Rey’s actions through Finn for a while as the sparking subsides, but the engine still sounds off. Finn fills with Rey’s frustration.

_I don’t understand it._

Chewie sends grunted ideas down at them, but Finn shakes his head as each one is dismissed by the tech genius inside of him.

“May I?” Ren leans in.

Finn leans back, uncomfortable with the proximity as he feels a blush rising up into his cheeks. He thanks the stars that his complexion is too dark to be able to tell. Sometimes he _wishes_ Rey could hear his damn thoughts, so he could tell her to stop fluttering his damn heart. How is she building _stronger_ feelings for their resident Madman? She’s near dead… and she doesn’t seem to be able to talk directly to him.

Or can she?

“Ah…” Ren’s voice is soft as he digs his hand deeper into the paneling. Without preamble, he _yanks._

There is a “fitz” sort of sound as he draws out a bit of… twigs? Straw? What is that?

Chewie puts his head in his hands and wails something at Ren.

He looks up at Chewie, waving the debris above the flooring panels from below deck, and asks, “And what is a _Porg_ doing in your _circuitry_?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ren’s scowl is… deep. He’s radiating discomfort so strongly that even Finn feels it… and he _never_ feels Ren.

Still, he won’t let him spoil this sunset. He smiles – nearly _beaming,_ “They say the sunset lasts two whole hours here!”

Finn breathes in and stares at the shifting colors in the sky. Ren’s mood be damned – this is his first time in Cloud City and he’s going to make the most of it.

They barely landed the Falcon. Even with Rey and the Darksider teaming up, things kept powering down – then whirring up again – only to make terrifying sounds and putter to a stop once more.

It was upsetting. For several reasons. For example: if Finn had to tamp down Rey’s desire to touch Ren’s hand even _one more time…_

Either way, Chewie comm’ed down and got them cleared for landing.

By Lando.

Lando _Calrissian._

Honestly, Finn is ecstatic. Meeting him on Pasaana had left him star struck. The idea of potentially spending more time with him makes Finn giddy. Lando had mentioned going down to Pasaana for a mission with Luke Skywalker and Finn desperately wants to hear all about it.

Ren bristles suddenly and the emotion rolling off him seems to _triple._ Without turning back, he strides away, heading back towards the Falcon. Quickly.

“Finn!” He hears a jovial voice behind him. He grins and turns to find the ever-caped man holding his arms out for an embrace.

Finn's more than happy to oblige, patting the man firmly on the back before pulling away to look him in the eyes.

“What happened to you on Exegol? Chewie said you were flying with him.”

Lando wraps his arm around Finn shoulders, leading him towards the ship to collect their Wookie companion. “Chewbacca let me know that you both were going to find Rey. We landed on surface and I jumped on another transport. With – a friend of yours, I believe?”

“A friend?”

“Yes.” His smile is mysterious but turns to joy once more as Chewie steps off the ship.

With a growl, the hairy beast picks him up and squeezes him - to (what looks like) the point of discomfort, but Lando laughs good naturedly. When Chewie puts him down, the man can’t help but pat the Wookie on the shoulders. Again and again.

“Old friend,” his face is wistful before breaking into that charming smile. “How many times will we have to save the Galaxy together before it finally stays _saved_?”

Chewie moans out something akin to, “Last time, please. I’m too old for more,” earning a wholehearted chuckle from Finn’s new idol.

Chewie’s voice turns somber then. He whispers something softly to Lando, making his eyes go WIDE. “He _what?”_ His face flies towards the ship and back to Chewie’s once more.

All the Wookie can do is nod, sullenly.

Lando scowls. An expression Finn didn’t even know he could make. He feels a familiar, TUG.

_They’re talking about Ben._

Finn whispers under his breath, “More likely they’re talking about _Kylo Ren_.”

Her panic rises in his chest. Yet again, he loses his control over his body.

“Please!” He calls out, trotting up to Lando, “Please don’t tell anyone. Please don’t use… _his other name_ out loud _._ You’ll get him killed.” Her anxiety floods him, “No one can’t find him. NO ONE can know he’s alive.”

Finn breathes loudly through his nose as he feels her _pull back_ within him.

He hates this.

He _hates_ when she does this.

Lando’s eyes are wide, before they settle in for a more morose look. “And why is that?”

Finn gets ready to tell the story. But – to start simply, “We need him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had almost forgotten that there was another member of his family left alive. ‘Unca Wanwo’. His childhood endearment for the man still sets a flare of embarrassment into his cheeks.

Lando Calrissian.

One of very few friends of Han Solo’s. His father hadn’t been much for _friends._

He hates this.

He hates every _moment_ of this.

Never mind. He’ll stay on this damn ship until Jakku freezes over if he must. It may be childish – but he’s not ready to be accountable to yet another person for the death of his father.

He wants to put that in its box and keep it there until he dies.

Instead, he wants to remember his vision… the imaginary moment in his mind where he chose his father. His family. The Light.

His heart drops when he hears booted feet echo through the hallway. He knew Finn’s gait by now. And this wasn’t it.

He bristles, preparing for battle. He’s not ready for this.

He’s not _ready_ for this.

Panic floods him, but he is no coward. He wasn’t as a boy, or a young man… and he certainly isn’t one now. So, instead, he stands to face the man stomping in quickened steps into the Falcon.

Lando’s face is filled with fury. He’d never seen that expression on him before.

Without realizing it, Kylo slips into his stoicism. Wearing it like a cloak. He can wear pale clothes. He can lose his scar. He can lose his _throne._ But his mental defenses… well, that was another matter entirely.

It’s almost a joke when Lando throws a punch his way. It was slow. Feeble. He was an old man now.

But one with fire in his belly, he’d give him that.

Lando’s eyes are on his and his sneer shines. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t slaughter you.”

Kylo’s eyes narrow and his smirk is cynical. “Give me one good reason why you think you _could._ ”

Lando near _spits,_ “How do you plan to be _accountable,_ Ben? How can you dare face _anyone_ in the Galaxy? If Rey didn’t need you – you’d be _dead_ now.” He pauses, drawing himself up. “You _should be dead now._ ”

As much as Kylo braced against it, it stung.

“Hosnia.” Lando holds up a finger. “Kajimi.” Another raises in the air. “The Stormtrooper program.”

His voice is firm. “Hux was responsible for Hosnia.” He shook his head slightly, “I know nothing about Kajimi – I must have already… left… by then – but I imagine they must have faced the same fate,then?” He sighs.

His wide, mournful eyes connect with his Uncle’s. “And you know the Stormtrooper program started long before me.”

Damn his face – he wishes for his mask, as he knows his sorrow is visible. “I had no part in your daughter’s abduction. I was only – what, 10? 11? You know I was at the Jedi Temple, then.”

Lando hangs his head. In an uncharacteristic gesture, he spins around, thrusting his hands through his hair.

Kylo reviews his body. Paunchy. Soft. But still – some old fondness creeps into his heart.

He finds he doesn’t want to tamp it down.

“Complicit, Ben.”

“Following orders.” He counters.

Lando scoffs, “Not for the last year you weren’t. _Supreme Leader_.”

He could tell him about Palpatine. How he had to move along with certain plans and _requests_ to avoid drawing the Emperor’s suspicion… regarding Kylo’s plans to kill him, that is.

But what’s the point?

Instead, he holds his Uncle’s eyes steadily.

Lando starts in again, “And your _father…_ ”

“Don’t.” Kylo cuts him off quickly. Too quickly. His eyes go to the ground. When did he become so _weak?_ Or… was he always this weak? Torn? Tormented?

The answer is, yes.

“Lots of parents neglect and abandon their children, Ben. _Really_ abandon them.” He pauses for effect, “But they don’t all turn to the _Dark side._ They don’t all become _murderers._ ”

“No, you’re right… not _all_ of them.” Kylo’s penchant for instigation rears its ugly head.

Kylo regrets is as soon as he says it, though. He works his jaw. He’s so tired of these emotional battles.

“Did you know I was drawn to the Darkness? Even when I was young?”

His uncle narrows his eyes at him, “I don’t see what this has to do with-“

But Kylo cuts him off, “Did you know how early in my life Snoke was inside my head?”

Lando’s eyes... soften. Ever so slightly.

“As early as I can remember.” Kylo raises his pained eyes to Lando’s brown ones. He remembers the nightmares. He remembers that Snoke had been the only one who understood him in his loneliness.

How hollow that feels, now.

His heart _hurts._ Underneath all the rage… it just _hurts._ It’s easier to be angry. To feel the fury flooding through him. To aim it like a fist at something. Anything. A wall – an electrical panel – a person… _anything._ Anything is better than _this._

But the anger doesn’t come.

Instead it’s sorrow, and he casts his eyes to the floor once more.

Lando grows quiet, hands on his hips. As if he’s unsure what to do with himself. “What about _after_ Snoke?”

For that, Kylo had no answers.

Lando huffs a sigh.

“When you’re off this ship in my city, you Will Not bring a weapon. You Will Not be anywhere without supervision. And you Will Not-“

Kylo cuts him off, “Who said I’m getting off the ship?”

And that’s when his Uncle’s familiar charming smile returns – albeit with a slight bite beneath its surface. “ _I_ did…” his façade falls away as he hisses, “… _Ben._ ”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Finn!!”

It’s the second ecstatic greeting he’d gotten in one day. A new record for him. He turns, surprised, only to catch an _armful_ of woman. Dark curly hair _everywhere_.

“I thought I’d never see you again!”

That voice. That accent.

“Jannah?”

She pulls back with a grin. The slight gap in her teeth endearing. A fellow defector. He tugs her back in for another tight squeeze. “What are you doing here?”

Finn notices Jannah’s clothes are more suited to Cloud City now – refined. Less… tribal. She’s stunning.

She looks shy. Like she has a secret. One she’s dying to tell. “I – I found my family, Finn.”

Stun rolls through him.

“Really?”

She bites her bottom lip slightly and nods.

He grasps her hands tightly. If she found hers… then maybe? Maybe there were records from an old First Order ship? Maybe he could…?

His mind swims with infinite possibilities in just one moment. A lifetime of missed opportunities is made up to him in that pause between breaths.

“How? How did you find them?” His eyes are intense on hers.

Chewie and Lando appear behind them. Lando slips an arm around Janna’s waist. “By chance.” He smiles, staring lovingly down at her.

“By chance?” Finn repeats, dumbly.

Lando looks back to Finn. “Once I got on the other transport – I found her. I _found_ her.” He smiled as if Finn should know what that meant.

He looks down at Jannah again, beaming. “As soon as I saw her, I knew. I just knew.”

Finn’s stomach drops.

“She’s looks so much like my late wife.”

Chewie howls a gleeful sound and wraps them both in an embrace.

Finn feels – alone.

Ren slides up beside him. He can’t help but shoot him a sarcastic look. “Look who’s off the ship.”

Ren snorts slightly but takes in the sight. He seems, reverent somehow. Maybe even… pleased? His expression is always hard to read.

“What’s that face for?”

Ren raises his eyebrows in Finn’s direction before quirking his lips. “It seems the Ex-Baron of Cloud City has found something he’s been looking for a very long time.”

Finn feels jealousy mire in his chest. He’ll have to settle for the family he’s made. 

A woman near Death. That he was in love with. Who loved someone else. 

A smart-mouthed pilot he can likely never speak to again.

A Wookie he can barely understand.

And an... unwanted ally.

Gods, this is depressing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why has he started drinking so much in the past few weeks? He supposes it’s not too hard to guess. Still, though, it’s likely happening too often.

He Says as He Pours More Liquor Down His Throat.

He can’t really feel Rey when he’s like this – but that’s okay. He might not be alone in body, but he’d prefer to wallow in his mental misery alone for just now.

He eyes Jannah again. Her hair is a curly cloud around her head. They’re sitting at the card table and Finn can barely see the hand he’s holding.

Or remember the game they’re playing.

Or understand why Lando is making that face at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s a fool. A damned _fool._

Finn’s stubborn side and constant need to prove himself has hit their band of Merry Men _right in the pocket._

After his supervised trip to the ‘fresher (thank you, _Wookie),_ Kylo has returned to find Finn drunk.

What else is new?

But when he sees Lando raking in the credits from Finn’s pile, his eyes can’t help but go wide and Chewie growls.

Kylo strides over and grabs Finn’s wrist, roughly, turning his hand over to see his cards. Incredulity engulfs him.

He jeers, “You went all-in on _that?”_ He tosses Finn’s hand down to the table, the cards spattering everywhere.

“What?” The idiot grins. “Is that not a good hand?” He looks at Jannah with a lopsided grin, “Because I _seriously_ thought that was a good hand.”

More gently than he should have, Chewie _thwacks_ Finn off the back of the head.

Good. Saves Kylo from putting a _SPEAR_ through it.

Lando’s grin is shark like.

Kylo put his hands on his hips and cocks his head to one side. Eyeing his Uncle, he frowns. “Give it back.”

Lando’s grin _widens._ “Fair and square, Ben. Fair. And. Square.”

He flings his hand in Finn’s direction. “From a drunk?”

“I’ve won many bets from drunks.”

Kylo hisses, again pointing at Finn, “Look at him. Seriously?”

Lando nods, eyes on Kylo. “Seriously.”

Kylo snorts. This is a challenge.

So be it.

“Double or nothing.” He nearly throws Finn out of his chair, Chewie catching him in a not-so-nice way.

“And why would I do that? Why risk what I’ve already won?”

“I’ll make it worth your while. I’ll throw in the Falcon.”

Chewie screeches – but Kylo shoots him a scalding look. Chewie’s reaction falters.

Then, without meaning to – Kylo _winks._

He guesses there’s some of his father in him, after all.

“Who needs that rusted out ship? You brought it here in ruins! What would I pay _anything_ for it? You should pay _me_ to take it.”

Kylo stays stoic, save a small eyebrow raise.

Lando stares back at him.

But Kylo calls his bluff.

Eventually, Lando’s grin blooms. “Okay, nephew. Let’s see if you remember anything I taught you.”

“Nephew?!?” Finn’s incredulity would be amusing, had he not almost stumbled into Kylo’s lap when he said so. Chewie gets him under tighter grips again.

The woman… Lando’s daughter? Her eyes are on him so intently that it makes him uncomfortable. But he'll never show it.

Round after round goes by and Kylo’s stacks grow.

“I see you _haven’t_ forgotten, then.” Lando huffs, shoving another pot Kylo’s way before reaching out to shuffle.

Kylo tsks, “Not you. I see what you’ve been doing.” His lips quirk.

Lando follows suit, passing the cards to his daughter. He looks pleased.

“I remember when your mother almost caught Han and I teaching you how to play.”

“ _Almost_.” Kylo’s lips tip up again.

A few more hands and their stack is restored. It wasn’t much, even so. Kylo hadn’t realized how little money they had. Or how much they had blown through. Either way, this is a problem to be solved.

Lando looks pleased, despite having lost. “Well, there’s no chance I could have won against the son of Han Solo. It doesn’t hurt that you have an eidetic memory… and a penchant for telepathy.”

Kylo actually let’s out a tiny predatorial _grin._

“What’s eidetic?” Finn sways.

“Basically it means,” Lando leans back in his chair and doesn’t take his eyes off Kylo, “That he remembers _everything._ Every word or phrase spoken. Every picture or story in a book. This boy’s capacity for knowledge has always been _endless._ ”

Lando’s face is wistful again and Kylo feels a sense of pride. He never knew that anyone had noticed.

Finn hiccups out, “Rey, too! She has that, too! No wonder you’re both so _damned_ smart.”

And now he’s doubly pleased.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Dream.

He sees her in the sand. She doesn’t see him yet – but he sees her. He can’t help it. He just can’t _help it._

Tonight – he’s the one that breaks the circle.

Her eyes meet his, but before she can do anything, he grabs her up in the air, pressing her against him – crushing her in his embrace.

The memory he’d shared with her was an accident. A fatal mistake. Only it... wasn't. She had finally seen him. Really _seen_ him. And she didn’t run.

Instead… she had…

He nearly chokes up. All he can do is press his face into the nape of her neck.

His voice is horse as he whispers out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m _sorry,”_ over and over again. Sorry for the things she’d seen. Sorry he couldn’t keep it hidden away in his mind.

He won’t cry. He vows not to cry again - but as he tries to thank her for saving them… those terrifyingly frail children… he does anyway.

Her arms wrap around him tightly as she buries her nose in his hair. He lets go and sags against her, his tears running down her neck. His, ‘I’m sorrys’ and ‘Thank yous’ coming so fast for so long that they bleed into one long word as he sobs into her.

He feels her fingers run through his hair. He feels her compassion sink through him. He's not alone. He's so thankfully not alone.

He quiets, but refuses to let her go. Instead, he snuffles and digs himself further into the crook where her collarbones nest, breathing in her personal fragrance of sand and sun.

It’s a heady scent.

He doesn’t mean to, but he starts to nuzzle her. Caressing his nose gently up her neck. She smells something like home. Not a home he ever had – but a home he desperately wants.

He _wants._

His lips graze her neck now and she sighs a… special sort of sound. Somehow that sound drives a _pulse_ through his body.

“Rey,” he whispers – mouth hovering over her pulse point. His lower lip catches against her, resulting in that _sound_ again.

It's like music. Provocative, seductive, _intoxicating_ music.

And he wants to be the conductor.

He breathes, “Tell me to stop.”

But she doesn’t. So he murmurs his breath across her soft skin. A vicious urge rises in him to _taste_ her. To drag his _teeth_ across her. What kind of sounds would she make, then?

He feels her tilt her head ever-so-slightly back, exposing her throat to him. This must be the most intimate act anyone has ever offered. The trust she’s showing sends his heartbeat straight down his body. He feels a sensation that he hasn’t felt since he was in his teens… and it’s… overwhelming.

He’s drowning in it.

And, Gods, how he _wants._

He drags his lips up the column of her throat – feeling the thrum of her blood under her skin.

“Ben…” she half whispers – and it makes him groan into her.

The sound coaxes her into tipping her head even _further back_ , as she arches her chest into him.

He kisses her skin, then. Truly kisses her. Open mouthed. Soft. He can taste the dessert sweat on her. He knows he’ll remember this taste for the rest of his life.

More open-mouthed kisses, from her throat to her ear… and when he does, oh Gods – what he _hears_ from her. It’s breathy groans and gasps all at once.

He does drag his teeth down her, then, and he feels her fingers clench in his hair. The slight tug sends another _throb_ down him. He shifts his hands from her waist slowly up her arms. His fingers are feather-light. He’s never touched anyone like this. Her arm wraps are course and rough, but he instinctively knows that under them, she's like silk.

Her breath is coming quicker, and her heart is fluttering wildly.

He can guarantee his is doing the same.

He kisses his way up her jawline as his fingers slide up her shoulders. They sprawl up to fan against the sides of her neck in a touch that’s barely there.

He’s afraid to look her in the eyes. What will he see when he looks there? What will she see in him? Again, he reminds himself that he’s no coward, so he pulls back. Her eyes are closed as he strokes his thumbs over her, chin to her clavicle. Her eyebrows are slightly knit as she sighs into his caress. Her face is flushed with a pink hue and her skin is hot to the touch. Her parted lips call to him – and yet, he needs to _see_ her first.

His voice is breathy, “Eyes on me.”

And, wonder of wonder, she _obeys._

That, in and of itself, could be his undoing. He feels his pants growing taut around him. His pulse has driven south and he’s beginning to ache. 

Her eyes are hazel embers and they rake over him, hovering over his lips before she leans up on tiptoe. He needs no more invitation. He swoops down, likely a bit too quickly, but halts at the last second.

She breathes in a stuttered breath. And then she says it.

“Please.”

His heart _squeezes._

He grazes his lips above her chin, just below her lower lip. Again against the side of her mouth. Teasing her. Teasing _himself._

She’s panting now, but he realizes he’s holding his breath.

He slides his lips over hers. Soft. Chaste.

But not for long.

Moisture slips across the rim of his mouth as she opens for him. He follows suit. How could he not?

But when her tongue catches his – he feels he may die a little. A small sound comes out through his nose in surprise… before he becomes _ravenous._

He skims his tongue against the gap between her lips, which are growing plush under his attentions. It’s her turn to let out a small squeak – but it only spurs him on.

He slants his open mouth on hers, pushing his way _inside._ Tasting her. Savoring her. He only stops because he needs to breathe. He’s lightheaded and his gasps come raggedly. Their foreheads press and sustain one another as his nose caresses hers. His eyes seem glued shut and he catches his breath.

“Rey…” he’s begging – but he doesn’t know what for…

And Finn wakes him up with a yell.

_________


	13. Something's Wrong with Rey

Art by [Lazare Gvimradze ](https://posterspy.com/profile/legionofpotatoes/)(With permission~) 

  
  


_________________

So – his eyes are a bit bleary. So what? The truth of the matter is, blurry or not, Jannah is a beautiful woman. Fierce. Strong. Brave.

Finn guesses he must have a “type”. The accents are quite nice, too. 

She’s staring at him warily as she puts yet another glass of water in front of him. “I’m all for celebration – but I’m not sure you're  _ actually _ celebrating. ”

Finn takes a swig of his water but doesn’t really have much to say other than to give her a tired smile. “It’s just been, well – a lot. Y’know? I mean, I don’t have to tell  _ you,” _ he waves his hand in her direction.

Jannah looks seriously into her lap. “Have you really thought about it? What it means?”

To wish for a list of things you can’t have? Yes, Finn is certainly thinking deeply about that.

“What  _ what  _ means?”

“The end of the Order. All those… destroyed ships.” Jannah’s eyes shine as she casts them towards the ceiling. “All the bodies.”

She pauses again, fidgeting with her hands. “I’m not a coward. I’m  _ not  _ afraid of killing during war. I am a trained soldier, and a good one, too. But… all those bodies… it’s like I can still see them floating.”

Finn’s clouded sight focuses solely on her.

“I can understand why you might want to escape from it all. I mean - once, they were all just kids. Like us. They could have been  _ us.” _

Finn’s mouth pulls into a scowl. “No – no they weren’t like  _ us. _ People like you, people like me - we made a choice. We had a choice to obey or to leave. And we were brave enough to make the right choice.” 

His voice is firm and holds no room for argument, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get one. Instead of escalating though, the tone in her voice makes him take pause. It’s sobering. More sobering than the water.

“I wanted to leave so much earlier. But I was  _ afraid.  _ I thought I was alone in the way I felt. In the way I wanted to  _ leave. _ I thought I would be killed if I stepped out of line. Hell - I probably would have been. Reconditioned at the least...

“It wasn’t until that one moment – that  _ one  _ skirmish – when I decided that I would rather die than kill civilians. When the rest of the platoon stood with me, it was the first time I’d realized that I wasn’t the only one who had thoughts like that. I was shocked. So surprised that there were others who felt just like me. That I wasn’t  _ alone.” _

A single tear makes it way over her bottom lash as her eyes lock on him.

“How many of those bodies felt the way I did – but thought they were alone?”

It’s belated – but Finn lets it start to sink into the surface of his mind. In the Resistance, he’d just put a wall up over all of that. How could he possibly fight against them if he realized they could all  _ be  _ him. They could all be one step away from making that  _ right choice. _

“Did you ever fight them before Exegol? The First Order?”

Jannah shakes her head. “Not after we escaped, no. Once we left, we found our way to the planet where you met us. We stripped our ship, set up camp… and just  _ lived. _ ” She smiles then. It’s a soft, but proud smile. “We lived Free.”

She laughs a bit, “Though, I won’t lie – it felt good to be in battle again.”

Finn humphs out a sound of amusement, though he doesn’t really feel it.

“Anyway – I guess, all I wanted to say is that I understand why you’d want to escape a bit.” She places her hand on his knee firmly, patting it. “Just don’t escape for too long.”

And with that, she gives him a tight smile, rising to take her leave. Finn should leave, too – his quarters are back on the Falcon, and he thinks he can make it there on his own now. This conversation seems to have cleared out the cobwebs.

Before she’s out of sight, Finn works up the courage to say, “I’m happy for you, you know.”

Jannah turns back to look over her shoulder through the doorway. Her expression is curious, and her curly hair frames her face like a halo.

“I’m happy that you were able to find your family.” His smile is genuine.

And so is hers. “By chance.”

Finn nods. “By chance.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night air on Cloud City is brisk – but in a good way. In a head-clearing sort of way.

There is a breeze and it tickles at Finn’s back as it passes by.

He pauses for a moment and leans onto a guard wall, a barrier between him and the drop into nothing but air. Aaaaaall the way down to the planet’s surface.

He shudders.

The sky is inky black, but he can barely see it through the clouds. Just a peek now and again.

There were nights in the Resistance when he’d look up at the sky like this – but it was never so  _ quiet. _ There was always someone bustling, standing guard, keeping spirits up… or something. He’d never had time to just – be. Think.

Process.

It’s easier not to. It’s easier just to be angry. About everything.

He misses his friends. There’s no one to bring these feelings to. He can ‘talk’ to Rey… but it’s strange to have a conversation with the wall as you just hear a voice in your mind.

No – Finn needs a flesh and blood person. To do what Jannah did. To pat his knee. Look into his eyes.

He’s so  _ lonely. _

He’s always been good at making friends. If you asked him, he thought he was pretty damn funny – and it’s easy to make friends when you’re like that. To be close. At least – he  _ thinks  _ he’s been close.

His old Stormtrooper friends – the ones who once called him ‘Eight-Seven’ – did they ever feel like that? Like they wanted to defect? Like what the First Order was doing  _ wasn’t right? _

And – even if they did – would Finn have stopped long enough to make sure they could come with him if he left? Or would he just have abandoned them to make his quick get-away with Poe, no matter what their feelings were?

Questions with no answers. Are they even questions worth asking? What happened, happened. What is, is. Black and white.

He sighs a heavy sigh and hangs his head in his hands, pressing his forehead to the cold stone.

Without the First Order – without the Resistance – without Rey… what will he do? What’s his ‘next thing’?

Get her back? Absolutely.

Leave her to Ren? He prickles.

And then do… what?

His heartbeat picks up and he feels strange, suddenly. Something is wrong. His chest  _ aches. _ He straightens and places a hand against it – as if that would somehow help.

It doesn’t.

He feels lightheaded and there is a… a sort of heat rising in him. Worry creases his brow. His heart is  _ hammering _ – and then he realizes. It’s not  _ him. _

It’s  _ Rey. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“REN!” He screams, as soon as the bay door opens on the Falcon. He slams his hand against the interior trigger to close it behind him, slapping his feet on the floor as he  _ runs. _

The Darksider is already rising in a snap gesture when Finn enters the room and flips on the med-bay lights in his panic.

“Something’s wrong with Rey!” is all Finn can get out as he rushes to the cot she rests on. Ren always slept near her – but not  _ too  _ near. That only mildly makes the situation better.

Finn strips off her blankets and starts touching her, searching for something. He pokes at her, shakes her and starts to say her name over and over with increasing volume.

He flinches as he feels hands on him and  _ wrenches  _ away, finding Ren just behind him. His expression holds concern, which is rare for him.

He’s looking from her to Finn and back again. He’s not placating or soothing – he simply asks with his eyebrows knit, “What?  _ What’s _ wrong with Rey?”

Finn is panting – but he hadn’t run far, so it can’t be because of that.

“I – I  _ feel  _ her… you know I feel her!” Finn’s temper flares. He pounds his chest. “It’s like I can’t  _ breathe.  _ My heart is racing… and my body  _ aches. _ I can’t… I can’t understand…”

And he see’s Ren’s face change. Like he  _ understands. _

And then, the man  _ smiles.  _ Kylo Ren actually… _ smiles.  _ He bites the inside of his cheeks and looks straight up to the ceiling. It’s the first time Finn had ever seen his mouth move that way, all crooked teeth and dimples.

It’s that Bastard’s secret again, isn’t it?

Finn looks at Rey and can’t help but notice that her mouth is parted and her skin is flushed with pink – not pale and ghostly, like normal. He finds his face is flushed to match, heat in his cheeks.

“What’s going on with you and Rey? I’m not going to ask you again.”

Finn knows that Ren had been nowhere near her when he’d entered the room – but he had this  _ feeling. _

Ren’s smile falters. His mood always dips whenever Finn demands anything.

Well screw him.

“TELL ME!”

He watches Ren as he casts his eyes to the wall and ticks his jaw side to side. “I’ve told you already – talk to Rey.”

Finn stalks over in rapid movements, getting into the man’s space. “Nah, no – see that’s not going to  _ fly  _ this time. You’re going to tell me. Right. Now.”

Ren’s eyebrows go down and the more familiar evil smirk crosses his face. “Or what?”

Finn breathes heavy and scowls but is otherwise unmoving.

Ren doesn’t back off, instead – he gets closer. Uncomfortably close. If Finn doesn’t back up, he’ll be chest to chest with this  _ beast. _

“Careful, now. I don’t take orders. I  _ give _ them.”

Finn sneers and backs up, flicking his chin in defiance. He fumes for a minute before settling… slightly. This was all beside the point. He gestures over his shoulder. “Is. She. Okay?”

Ren’s eyes are heated and, for a moment, it seems like he won’t answer.

But then he settles, too. He looks over at her and gets this… look across his face. Finn has no idea what the expression means. He’s never seen anyone wear it before.

Then the smile returns, softer. “She’s fine.” Ren tilts his head and his eyes are mirthful on Finn’s. “More than fine, I think.”

And Finn is left with that as his only answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Kylo not-so-subtly indicates that Finn needs to vacate his immediate vicinity, he finds himself alone in the Med-bay.

Well, not  _ alone. _

His grin returns in full force. He almost chuckles to himself as he runs his hands through his slept in hair. He goes to her bedside and beams down at her before his expression grows reverent. Tender. Longing.

“You know,” he starts, “all this time I was afraid that it’s just been in my head. That it hasn’t been  _ real. _ ” He dips his hand down and caresses her fingertips sweetly.

“But it is real, isn’t it?”

He feels her, then. A whisper. Barely there. Not a voice – just a… feeling.

And he’s in love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn really needs the sleep, but he just can’t imagine laying down now. His nerves are fried. It’s still in the middle of the night – and they’ve got to get those parts installed tomorrow.

Those parts had eaten up most of their money.

The rest he’d almost lost to Lando.

_ Almost. _

What was that back there, anyway? How is Ren any relation to  _ Lando Calrissian? _ It had seemed like they’d known each other since Ren was a kid…

Then it hits him. He’s stupid to have not put two and two together. ‘Ben Solo’ is the son of Han Solo – so, of course, he grew up with heroes all around him.

Finn’s jealousy wells in him again.

Ren had a family. Had Legends for a family. There aren’t many of them left that he didn’t destroy… but they’re there. And Jannah is, for all intents and purposes, a part of that family now.

Ren also has power. Not just authority (Finn doesn’t really care about that), but strength. Of body. Of will. Of mind. And confidence. Enough to choke a rathtar with.

Ren also… has Rey. Finn’s heart breaks a little deeper than before, because he  _ knows  _ this. Especially now. He’s not sure what’s happening, but he knows they’re connecting.

He just doesn’t want to think about what they  _ do  _ when they’re connecting.

Finn looks down to see a green light on the comms panel flash. He checks the signal… and can’t help but break into a grin. Before he can second guess himself, knowing the potential risks, he opens the line.

“Finn! Are you there, buddy?”

“Poe,” he grins. “Gods it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Buddy – I’ve got to make this quick – you and Rey doing ok?”

Finn’s mouth hardens to a line, but he keeps his voice up. “Yeah – we’re… you know… ‘Force Stuff”!” He grimaces.

“Perfect! That’s exactly why I’m reaching out.”

“What’s going on? Do you need us?”

“Just thought I’d give you guys a bit of a tip. We heard there’s a big artifact dealer who’s making a deal go through over in Bespin. You close to there?”

In fact, that’s exactly where they are. “Yeah, we’re nearby.”

“Good. Get there. This dealer apparently salvaged a boat load of Jedi and Sith artifacts from the Steadfast’s wreckage.”

“Ren’s ship?”

“His flagship, yeah. Word is that the meeting’s with some ‘collector’ to make a deal on-planet. Cloud City. I imagine that those types of things would be better in  _ Rey’s  _ hands than some Sith wannabe’s.”

Finn agrees wholeheartedly – but the situation is complicated. He is, in fact, quite close to a ‘Sith wannabe’ at the present moment.

“When’s the meeting?”

“Let me check Galactic standard, one sec…” Finn hears some buttons tick. “About 12 hours from now. Can you make that happen?”

“Yeah. We can make that happen. Sure.”

“Awesome. You keep that stuff as far away from the bad guys as you can, Finn. Destroy it all, if you can’t take it with you.”

“Roger that, General.”

He can hear Poe’s smile, “You too,  _ General. _ Take care. Let me know how it goes. Black Leader out.”

Finn sits back.

Well –  _ there’s  _ something to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lando’s grin is sly, and Ren doesn’t seem to like it one bit.

“And you’re asking my permission to… what… sabotage a completely legal transaction?”

Finn holds his hands out, trying to engage the man in a conversation, “No, wait – hear me out… we don’t want any bad guys getting their hands on this stuff.”

Lando looks straight at Ren and deadpans, “Then I don’t think you should be getting your hands on it.”

Kylo snorts and Finn grunts at him. “Look – can you just…? Can you just  _ not  _ for once? For once!?” He points at Lando in a desperate sort of gesture as he hisses. “He’s  _ your  _ family.  _ You  _ convince him.”

Lando’s voice is unsavory, his words vicious, but a smile blooms on his face none-the-less, “No. He and I – we’re not family anymore.”

Ren’s face turns to stone. 

Finn guesses that, if the Darksider let it hurt him every time someone hated him… well, the suffering would be never ending.

“They were mine,” he states matter-of-factly. “I already know everything about them. All the usages, the techniques, the messages, the historical records-”

“Then why do you need them, now?”

Ren stands with his hands clasped together behind his back, military style. “It’s not about me having them. It’s about someone else  _ not  _ having them.”

Lando slides his hands around the back of his cape as he drops down into a sit. “You realize that, even if I agree with you, I have no political title here anymore. I have no authority to grant you  _ anything _ .”

Finn cuts in, “But you know who  _ does.  _ Who we  _ do  _ need to talk to.”

Lando almost laughs, “That’s not how we do things here. We don’t muck up other people’s business deals just to push our own agenda.”

Now Ren’s face pulls into a cruel smirk. “Come again? Try to say that with a straight face, next time.”

Lando huffs and refuses to look at him, focusing solely on Finn. “Look, kid – even if I wanted to help, which I don’t, what would I say? What justification could I possibly give to confiscate these items?”

Finn’s eyes are on the ground, the wall, all around before they finally lock on Ren. Without taking his eyes off him, he tells Lando, “Tell them that we have a Jedi Master here and that these artifacts were stolen from a Temple archive. That they need to be returned.”

Lando follows Finn’s eyeline just as Ren realizes the same. Both let out an echoed sound of incredulity.

“Look, it’s the best I’ve got.”

“Well, sorry son – but that’s just not going to work.”

Ren speaks up again. “Then, since you have ‘no political power’ and are disinclined to help…”

“‘Disinclined’, he says…” Lando rolls his eyes at Chewie, who is still dirty from replacing their parts and has remained quiet, otherwise.

Chewie growls a humorous, “Stupid Boy always talks like that.”

Ren flicks his cold eyes to both men, and they rein in their ribbing. He continues, enunciating the word more clearly, “…  _ Dis-in-clined _ to help, I’ll handle this my own way.” And without another word, he turns to stalk off.

After his footfalls leave the room, Lando looks at Finn and gently curls his hand over his facial hair, stroking it thoughtfully. He leans his head slightly over to the Wookie.

“Chewie, did I just give a death sentence by accident?”

Finn cuts in fast, “No. I won’t let him, no. We have to keep him Light. He can’t just go around killing people.”

Lando scoffs. “What makes you think that the Jedi didn’t kill people? They  _ bask  _ in the Light side of the Force – but they take lives just as quickly, if they need to.”

Finn’s brain halts a bit. Rey has always protected herself, but tries to save lives. Heal. 

Finn had obviously not seen her in Snoke’s throne room.

“But… I thought that-”

“Listen, kid – when you get to be old like us, you realize that ‘Light’ and ‘Dark’ don’t equate to ‘Good’ and ‘Evil’.”

Finn falters, “Then what’s the difference between the Light side and the Dark side?”

Chewie moans something that he can’t understand. Lando translates, “Passion versus Peace. But also - intent. Are you doing it for yourself, or for someone else? Are you doing it to prolong suffering or to end it? To hurt or to heal?”

Finn picks up the thread, “Are you grabbing for power or-“

Lando cuts in again, “Well, no. Not that. If you read your history, there are power grabs on both sides of the Force. There were whole wars fought over it. The Church of the Force was once a single religion that  _ splintered  _ into the Jedi, the Gray, and the Sith.”

Finn frowns. “There are no more Sith. Rey destroyed them all.”

Lando looks at him solemnly. How could he tell Finn that things like that don’t last? He breathes in and Chewie gestures for him to keep going.

“When I was with Luke, we’d go on missions and I’d ask him about things like this. Most of the time, he’d lead with the thought that the Jedi were all the world needed. But there were other times, when we’d find ancient texts or documents… or when he was drunk... that he’d admit that both sides wanted the same thing.”

Finn’s confused expression speaks volumes.

“The Sith fight to protect their way of life. They believe that what they’re doing is what’s best for all people. That control and power from one strong ruler can unite. Inspire fealty. Bring a sort of peace. Albeit a  _ controlled  _ peace. That is the Sith way. Power, strength, and control.”

Finn’s mind is spinning out of control, “You can’t be saying that you agree-“

“No, no, I absolutely do not agree with the ways of the Dark side. Or the Sith. What I’m saying is: don’t pretend that the Jedi  _ are _ something that they’re  _ not _ . Don’t make them out to be saints. They’re warriors. And warriors do what warriors must.”

There is a heavy pause as Finn takes this all in… but Lando breaks it with a grin and a wink.

“But why don’t you stop the kid from killing anyone, anyway. Just in case.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo leans against a wall, not looking at the Utapaun, but seeing it anyway. It has an elegant demeanor and a dark red, high cowled ensemble. Almost structural in its design. Its fingers are overlong as it remotes down a heavy cargo container to the landing ramp area, just letting the impressive case hover behind it – ready for whatever comes next.

He follows, dimming his presence, as the alien makes its way to a conference center Kylo’s familiar with. He’s heard stories of a ‘dinner with Darth Vader’ from both Lando and Han Solo. You know, before the Bounty Hunter had taken his father to Jabba the Hutt… who froze him.

He’d always loved that story as a kid. A part of his parents’ love story. He supposes he’s still fond of it, even now.

Looking at the size of the container, it’s likely that this creature has retrieved most (if not all) of what he’d… collected... during his stint as the Jedi Killer. He’d rather liked lining the white walls of his quarters with them. It’d be nice to have them in his hands again, given the amount of blood he’d shed to get them in the first place.

Thinking more as he trails behind it, it’s unlikely that the Utapaun was the one who’d retrieved these from whatever wreckage there’d been from the Steadfast. He wonders who else is making a play here – and who else is looking to  _ collect _ artifacts like these.

They may be just that – collectors. Happy to rain down credits to just be able to say they own such a thing. A Jedi artifact is impressive…

But a Sith one?

That gives you a certain dangerous edge in conversations. Often men who want to intimidate or influence people tell the ‘secret’ of their ownership. Especially to beautiful females. It gives some ladies a certain sense of provocative danger. No doubt this helps override whatever other  _ unattractive _ characteristics the owner may have.

The buyer may be harmless. But what if they’re not? What if something is coming  _ next  _ that he hadn’t sensed as Supreme Leader? What if the roiling power of Palpatine blinded him to something up-and-coming? Perhaps the Emperor had another apprentice.

He hovers on the outskirts, just outside of a conference room that must have been reserved for the transaction. He decides to wait and see who’s coming.

He doesn’t have to wait very long. 

He almost laughs when he sees the buyer. He tamps down on that amusement with vicious control, though he does let his mouth do its familiar  _ twitch,  _ anyway.

It was the Pirate Queen herself. Ancient, slightly stooped, enormous goggles to compensate for her nearsightedness.

He lurks, but he knows she senses him anyway. Whether or not she’ll engage is another thing.

Then… he feels jinxed. His  _ Goddamned Shadow _ is nearing.

“MAZ!?” Kylo nearly groans as he hears Finn yell, running  _ right  _ up to her.

He sees her flick the monocles within her goggles before smiling at the ex-stormtrooper, “I know those eyes! Finn, my boy – it’s good to see you!” She reaches out and pats the man fondly.

“And Ben Solo, too…” he hears her say. Kylo leans his head back against the wall with a small thump. This place is crawling with too many people he  _ knows. _

He steps out of his hidden vantage point with no preamble, just holding her gaze, saying nothing.

And she smiles, “Ah, how you’ve grown! When I last saw you – you were only about my size. Which is to say… not big at all.” She lets out a chuckle.

Kylo wants to crawl into a wall.

“Is my boyfriend here?”

Finn, “You have a boyfriend?”

~~~~~~~~~

The conference space is too small for the unexpected number that have joined in for the bartering. Kylo stands in the corner of the room with his arms clasped behind his back, staring out at the perplexing situation before him. In all honesty, he’s not sure how to proceed.

He doesn’t know how to convince Maz. Mind tricks will never work on her. He'd prefer not to kill her, if he can avoid it.

Wound, perhaps.

Steal from – absolutely.

She’d respect that, as the Pirate Queen. It’s an action she’d forgive rather easily. Just like she forgives  _ everything.  _ Kylo supposes that, when you’ve been alive for millennia, the deaths of others become trivial.

He knows she’d never bother mentioning his father – except to bring up some reminiscent story. In that respect he feels safe. His other recent… escapades, he’s not so sure.

It’s likely the only thing she’ll hold him accountable for is…

“Don’t you think I’ve forgotten, Ben Solo.”

He braces.

“I’m still rebuilding my Castle after what  _ happened _ to it.” She shakes a finger and he almost huffs a relieved sound. 

Almost.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he finds himself saying. With what, he’s not sure.

“Not needed. My friends have already funded the renovation of a new Castle. It’s ancient, like me, so it’s perfect. I’m calling it – ‘The Resurrection’.” She casts her hands to each side dramatically – staring between them with a proud glare.

“A bit grandiose for a den of thieves.”

She says nothing as she slides into a chair and regards the Utapaun’s lined face with a shark-like expression. “So – are we going to work a deal?”

Kylo listens to the negotiations and notes Finn’s eyes glaze over. Haggling and dealing is of no interest to him, then. He’s missing out – Maz is impressive, and surprisingly imposing, given her size. She’s gotten up on the table at least twice – and pulled the alien’s robes down for a patented deep-eye-stare once as well.

But the creature is not budging.

Then… there it is. Kylo has a plan.

“Maz – if you get your price, I’ll buy them from you for double.”

Finn almost spits when the air rushes out of him. “You’ll WHAT?”

Kylo shoots him a look and pushes the thought,  _ Shut Him Up  _ as hard as he can to Rey. He still has no idea if she can hear him… but it’s worth trying.

He sees Finn’s eyes harden as his lips pull in.

Ah, so it seems she does...

Maz leans back in her chair, “Now, why would you think I’d leave  _ you _ with this treasure trove?”

Kylo states simply, “Given how easily your castle was levelled, I’m betting I have a better chance at keeping them protected.”

“Who says I’m buying them for me?”

Kylo smirks at her and raises one eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m buying them for me.”

The Utapaun eyes flow back and forth between them. “If you’re willing to bid double – I can-“

Maz leans back and cuts him off with a sarcastic glare in Kylo’s direction, ignoring the alien completely. “And how would this benefit me? What would I get besides money?”

“I’d owe you.”

“Owe me what?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find something when the time is right.”

She leans forward and perches her elbows on her knees. Her face is serious. “And how do I know you’ll live that long?”

Kylo considers. He sighs at the floor before returning her gaze. “You don’t.”

She leans back once more and eyes him shrewdly. “Can you  _ convince _ him of my price point?”

Kylo flicks his eyes – and his mind – over to the Utapaun, who looks more than lost.

Kylo’s face holds nothing but amusement. “Oh, most definitely.”

Maz’s expression matches his. “Then – let’s make a deal.”

So Kylo waves his hand slowly in front of the alien’s face.

And they have a deal.

… Now all he needs is money. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO LUCKY!! I know that you may have noticed, boys and girls, that I post a... typo or two. 
> 
> (Or sixteen...) 
> 
> Well, now I have a WONDERFUL Beta reader who's going to help me get all grammarly on yo' asses! 
> 
> If you'd like - go back and check out the make-out scene again in the last chapter. I found a lot of synonyms to make it sound much nicer~~~ *blush*


	14. For the Love of Money

Art by [Sonia Matas](https://www.artstation.com/soniamatas) (Used with Permission~) 

  
  


_________________

Kylo whips his saber to the side in a sharp arc, sweat flinging from his brow. His strong arms curve the blade up as he pivots on one heel, spinning into a diagonal thrash  _ down. _

She’s smart. She’s always been smart. That’s likely why she’s lived for so damn long…

He leaps backwards, heels planting on the wall of the Falcon’s cargo bay for the briefest of moments before he launches into a roll, weapon blazing a figure eight along the way.

Finn knocks on the entrance a minute or two after he’d arrived. Kylo knows he’d been watching… and he revels in the annoyance and awe that rolls off the man.

“Chewie said we’re about to land.”

“So?” Up, back, side, thrust, spin.

“So – he needs you to get Maz out of the way. She’s, like, pawing at him.”

Kylo pauses and looks at Finn with a disheveled huff. “I told you she thinks he’s her boyfriend.” Strands of his hair stick to his forehead in uneven wisps.

“Look,” Finn crosses his arms, “It’s your fault she’s here. You should have just taken the stuff from her so we could  _ go." _

Kylo grabs a small towel and scrubs his face with it, disengaging his mother’s blade. “So, you would have a good man like me steal from a decrepit old woman?”

He could feel Finn’s eyes roll behind his back.

“Like I said before, I’ll get her the money on Coruscant.”

“If she knew you didn’t have the money in the first place, why did she bother making the deal with you?”

Kylo pauses mid-scrub and purses his lips together. He tries to insert dread in his voice, making it grow serious. “Finn…”

Finn’s eyebrows draw close together as he uncrosses his arms. “What?” His emotions spike in worry, and Kylo bites the inside of his cheek.

“Do you think… do you think she’s just using us to get her hands on Chewie?”

Finn pauses, confused.

Kylo’s eyes fill with humor.

And then Finn gets it, throwing his hands up in the air. “You tell the STUPIDEST jokes!” The man storms away in irritation, his voice fading along with his foot falls. “Seriously, who ever taught you…” into inaudibility.

Maz is smart. She plays the long game, plain and simple. At some point, at some moment, she’ll need him. And then this whole  _ excursion _ will have been worth the trip for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Chewie balks at him and Finn prickles. “Well excuse  _ me  _ – here I am, just trying to  _ help!”  _ Finn careens under the weight of the crate beneath his hands until the Wookie snatches it and hoists it over his shoulder.

If the creature was capable of a disdainful glare, this was it.

Ren strides off the ship and Maz calls after him. “…As long as you think it will work!”

Ren’s shoulders are rigid in his father’s clothes as he clomps forward in his signature long strides. “It’ll work.”

Finn, whose hands were already underneath the next ridiculously long crate, turns his head to follow. “Hey – hey – hey, where are you going?!”

Ren doesn’t even look back, but shouts over his shoulder. “I don’t need my  _ Shadow  _ for this one.”

Finn’s eyes narrow, and he waits a beat before hissing out, “Prick.”

Quieter and from farther away, “I heard that.”

Finn’s face winces at being caught. Rey laughs inside him, though, and so his mood lightens.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the largest banking institution on this city-made-planet, the security was incredibly lax. A few high window jumps, a few Force-induced fainting spells and misdirections – and here he was in the corner office of  _ just _ the woman he needed to see.

He’d never met her. Kylo Ren never had any need to meet her under any of his circumstances. But he knew  _ of  _ her. If there was one lesson he learned when he was young – it’s that those with the money made things happen. Whether through bribes and corruption… or through funded military campaigns.

He’d happened to notice a small glitch in their accounting when he’d gone looking. Right after Snoke, he’d combed through everything that had always been denied him – every scrap of information – just for the sheer control of being able to  _ do  _ it.

He’d secretly despised the mathematicians who’d somehow missed the “errors.” They must have been in on it. He had considered slaughtering them all, just to prove a point, but he’d thought better of it. Even then, he knew there would be a time when the knowledge would be useful.

Like Maz, he could play the long game.

He hears a gasp when she walks into the room, a datapad clattering to the floor.

He spins in his rustic and threadbare clothing and watches her face turn from surprise to fury.

“Who are you?!” The human woman nearly-bellows. Her hair wound tight up against her crown – much like he’d like to wind his foot up her ass. “You’re not authorized to be on this level, never mind in  _ my  _ office. I have half a mind to-”

“You’ve been skimming from the First Order.” He looks at her plainly, a dark smirk playing on his face.

She falters for a second as an expression of fear ticks across her face. She wipes it off quickly, but it was unmistakeable. The fury returns.

“How dare-“

“The account you access ends in 3309B. You take a percentage of a minor credit for every transaction. In deals that finance the Order, you charge 0.03% up from market rate.” His smirk widens, “And 0.06% up from the contractual agreements.”

Now her face schools itself into neutral. He hears it before she finishes the thought,  _ ‘I need to call for secure-‘ _

And he’s  _ inside. _

Her eyes bulge and she makes a sort of snik sound in her throat.

His voice is like dark silk. “What else have you been doing?” He stalks around her as she starts to grunt. He doesn’t mind making it hurt – but decides to lighten up, anyway. Her noises fade back down to a faint struggle to keep her words in, even though it’s her mind that betrays her.

“Ah, I see…” he intones, digging still deeper. “And I wonder how much of the Order’s money you still have access to.” He twiddles his fingers slightly, as if rifling through images. His smirk becomes a biting  _ grin. _

All of it.

He steps out of her mind, but holds her steady. Tears are welling in her eyes, but he offers her no sympathy. 

“Who-who are you?”

Knowing it won’t matter soon enough; he stands before her with his hands laced together behind his back. “I suppose you wouldn’t know my face without my mask.”

She eyes his stance and he can feel the pieces fall into place inside her mind.

“S-supreme Leader?”

She would kneel if he would only let her go.

“B-but, how? There are reports funneling through that the Order has been defeated. Dismantled!”

Despite her thievery, he senses she is loyal to the Order. He’s not actually sure how he should feel about that at the present moment.

“The reports are right. The Order has fallen.” 

It’s strange to say out loud. Knowing it and acknowledging it are two different things. It’s hard to imagine that his litany of hard-won ships and soldiers have all dissolved into star stuff. Along with his dreams.

Well, his old dreams, anyway.

His curiosity piques, “What’s happening, now that the Order has fallen?”

She still stands in his mental grip but seems to have forgone worry about it. She seems… awed to stand before him. It makes him uneasy.

“Things on our worlds are falling apart, sir.”

His eyebrows knit. “What do you mean?”

“Power vacuums.”

Damnit, he snarls. “And who’s stepping in to fill them?”

“Depends on where, sir. Hutts for some, civil war for others. Some are reverting back to the previous governmental structures – but no one can agree on the previous leadership stepping back in.”

He hisses and flicks his head to the side, suddenly wanting to pummel something. He simmers with a dark wave but breathes through his nose to try to clamp down on it.

Instead he paces. “How long has everyone known for? Known that the Order is gone?”

She makes a harsh intake of breath and he realizes that he’s holding her too hard. He loosens his grip on her a little bit.

Then a little bit more for good measure.

“I – I think from the beginning sir. The  _ Resistance _ ,” she sneers, “and its alliance members all but rained the news down from the sky. They sent images and holos from the destruction around that... uncharted planet. Other ships posted by Order’s worlds were forced to surrender or face destruction.”

Kylo’s voice floods with disbelief, “Who could stand against that many  _ Star Destroyers?”  _

She pauses, eyes wide. She starts to say something… then stops. When she connects eyes with him again, she senses his impatience and continues.

“After Kajimi, sir… the reports say that the Stormtroopers inside the ships mutinied. On  _ all  _ of the ships.”

A conflicted but solid,  _ Good, _ stomps its beat in his heart.

“Where are they now?”

“The ships, sir? They’re… debris. Everywhere. Being scavenged for Order tech.”

Again,  _ Good. _ “The troopers?”

She scowls. “Those bastards are getting what they deserve. No one wants them. Worlds still loyal to the ideals of the First Order don’t want them, and the other planets think it was ‘Too little, too late'. They have nothing, sir. Nowhere to go.”

His brain starts to weave a fantasy. A fantasy of seeing if something could come from the remains of the First Order. Something… good. Could what remains of ‘his people’ be reined back in? Repurposed, somehow?

He pockets the idea for later.

Eyes back on her, “I need you to  _ release  _ my funds. You can keep what you’ve taken, but I require the rest.”

Her eyes go wide like  _ saucers. _ “What?”

He arches an eyebrow.

“No – I mean, I understand what you’re asking… but do  _ you?  _ Do you know  _ how much  _ money that is? I can’t just load it into a briefcase or funnel it into a datachip. It’s  _ billions  _ of credits!”

He stalks around her, contemplatively, while she continues.

“I’d also imagine that it’s not the right time to let the world know that the Supreme Leader returned to Coruscant somehow to collect his  _ bankroll. _ ”

“His rather extensive bankroll,” he corrects.

He steps in front of her, leaning into her space, and feels a sudden  _ desire  _ roll off this woman. It makes him feel powerful and disgusted all at the same time. He backs away from her, tamping down on his urge to gag.

“Well, you and I are just going to have to figure out this puzzle together now, aren’t we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ren strides back onto the ship with a small cargo-load in hover-tow. He’s wearing decidedly better clothes, though it seems he’s chosen to stick to the tans and cream colors. His high collar leads to a ridged hood behind him. The clothes look very… thick.

“Are those…?”

“Armored, yes?”

“Aren’t they heavy?”

“And hot.” Kylo says matter-of-factly, stepping up to Maz and passing her a data chip. She eyes it with no thought to doubt him, patting him on the arm and working her way into the ship.

Finn is incredulous, “Well, aren’t you even going to  _ check  _ it?”

But Maz and Ren stride away together, leaving him alone with Chewie.

His arms flap in the air, “She’s not even gonna  _ check  _ it!?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are several reasons to be pleased right now.

Maz is gone. Their crew has whittled back down to his own personal trio.  _ Well… _ he smiles…  _ Quartet. _

They have money again. More than they’ll ever need in this lifetime.

The corrupted banker has something special in her mind now. Something he’s been working on for years and he’d just recently perfected. She’s got what he calls a ‘Force-program’. For all intents and purposes, he’s  _ coded  _ her with his desired actions on specific subjects.

Mainly, squirrelling away and protecting the First Order’s money. Let her keep her skim – and her life – but let her serve a purpose.

He ticks up his head and stretches out his mind. They’re already lightyears away, but he can still feel her. Faint, but program solidly in place.

His smirk takes over his face.

Until Finns speaks, of course.

“What are we gonna do with  _ all  _ of them?”

Finn stares down into the open crate. It’s distasteful that they’ve been packaged so haphazardly, but inside there are Jedi and Sith artifacts in abundance. Holocrons, special weaponry, books (which Kylo is extremely proud to have found and preserved), and talismans.

Finn rudely dips his hand down and picks up a red, triangular shape, spinning it in his hands like a ball. “What the hell are all these things?”

“That’s a Sith Holocron. Careful – you’ll be flooded with the Dark side.”

Finn zips his hands behind him, dropping the thing like it’s made of fire.

Kylo hisses out a grimace and  _ catches  _ it in his palm before it has a chance to clink down into the pile of treasures. It likely wouldn’t have mattered. He knew from experience that these things were  _ sturdy. _

It was the principle of the thing, really.

Palming it, he rolls his eyes to Finn, who puts his hand in the air in a placating gesture, though his voice squawks out, “I told you – STUPID jokes!”

They both survey the stash before them, Kylo rolling the Sith holocron between his fingers and Finn pressing his fists into his hips. Kylo knows where this is going. And he decides to play along.

“Chuck it.” Finn says decidedly, knocking Kylo’s holocron back into the crate and closing the outer latches.

“I’m sorry?” Kylo asks, eyebrows to the sky.

“These things are too dangerous. Keep the light side ones and chuck the rest.”

Kylo purses his lips and stares into Finn who looks, as always, self-righteous. He pans his chin to the crate once more and waits a good, long, hard minute. A potentially  _ contemplative  _ minute.

“Fine.”

Finn looks taken aback, which makes sense because Kylo felt him ratcheting up to fight about it.

“…Fine?”

Kylo keeps his eyes hard on the crate and lets the moment unspool again.

He tips his head back to Finn, eyes firm.

“Yes. Fine.”

Finn nods roughly. He takes a step back and starts to turn to go away… but turns back with his finger in the air. “…Fine?!?”

“Finn,” Kylo warns.

The man’s lips pull in and he nods again. “Fine,” and he turns on his heels and walks out.

Kylo holds in a snort. He refuses to desecrate history and the lifetimes it took to gather this knowledge. By all parties involved. What Finn doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Once more, he’s glad he knows this ship and that it hasn’t changed from his childhood. He pops up the grating and drops down into an overlarge crawl space below. Using the Force, he levitates the crate down as he slides open another secret hatch.

Inside is a space that makes his heart sink and soar at the same time.

He flicks an interior light and stares at his special place. An old drawing is tacked to the steel with stick-tape and reads “Bandit’s Hideout” in obnoxiously good handwriting. His first instinct is to tear it down.

So that’s exactly what he does.

He can barely stand in this space now, but it will do. It will do just fine.

He starts to unload.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the cockpit, Finn sits beside Chewie who’s starting to  _ growl  _ in anxiousness.

“He said, ‘Fine.’ He’ll do it. Just – you know – give him a minute.”

As if on cue, the cargo container floats out into the nothingness of space. Finn pats Chewie on the knee. “See, buddy, I told ya.” He ducks down into what he likes to call the ‘assassin’s chamber'. He readies the turrets…

…and blows the goddamned thing to hell.

Rey fills him with disappointment. “It’s okay, Rey. Ren kept all the Light side stuff.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A Dream

“Are you ready?” he simply says, not even looking at her. The hot desert sun is on his face and he closes his eyes to the sky.

Her hand slips into his – and the world melts away.

The music fills his ears before he senses anything else. The plush feeling of the velvet under his fingers brings back a wave of nostalgia and he soaks it in for a moment. He  _ misses  _ this place.

“Oh, Ben…”

He opens his eyes and looks at her first. Her eyes are wide and her jaw is agape like a child’s. He stifles a smile and slides the back of a finger over her cheek for a moment to get her attention before joining her gaze on the sights below.

Huge orbs of water float in the air. Ceruls dance within them; dash between them. Their vibrant tails a fan of art as they orchestrate a sequence. Sensual in their movements. Dazzling in the fiery  _ art  _ of their bodies. Daring in their acrobatics as they fling themselves into the open air between orbs, diving deeply into the next. If you know their language, you understand that this dance is also their version of  _ poetry. _

The music spirals into something passionate and he’s never wanted to look in two directions at once more in his life.

He waits for her to say something. Anything. And the first thing that comes out of her mouth is-

“I’m underdressed.”

He snorts.

Around them, the bodies he remembers were nearly aristocracy, the way they were dressed. Tailored and laced and brocaded. Hair in coifs and braids, threaded with golds.

He waves at it all, dismissively. 

She smiles a shy smile, staring out at the beauty before her.

“Do you… do you think you could change me? Make me dressed like that?”

He looks at her, a bit surprised. She blushes and tamps down on the emotion, strength in her voice. “I just thought that, if this is a place for jeweled things – it might be nice to…” She meets his gaze. “Shine.”

He smiles a sort of sad smile at her. He feels as if he’s made her feel inadequate.

Well, let’s rectify that then, shall we? 

He lifts his hands, unsure of how to begin. His hands hover near her face. “Close your eyes.”

She does… and he wants to kiss her again. He hides his smile and places his hands gently on her, swiping his thumbs over her eyelids, lining them with black and adding a shimmer to her skin.

His fingertip slides over her lips and they plush to a dusky pink.

He passes his fingers through her hair and it  _ lengthens,  _ falling down her back in a dead-straight line, threads of beaded silver shining through, coming up into an engraved piece that sits astride her forehead with a regal bearing.

He slides his hands lower and suddenly her shoulders are bare. He bites his lip slightly as he notices that, like instinct told him, she feels like silk.

In what he hopes is a clinical way – he fans his fingers down over her breast line and her garment flows around her, putting the beauty of the Ceruls to shame.

Her sleeves fall off her shoulders and the arms of her dress cascade over her hands. In her seated position, her dress now pools around her feet. It’s a rainbow. Every color of the sun’s rays.

She’s breathtaking.

Her eyes flutter open. Before she even glances at herself, she dares to ask, “Am I beautiful?”

And his answer is, “Always…” before he dives in and kisses her.

His hands thrust into her hair, feeling the silver shimmer of the beadwork there. His mouth is hot on hers… but then he remembers…

Finn.

And he backs off with a heavy sigh, resting his forehead against hers.

“You’re beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful. Covered in sweat, mud, blood, or a pounding ocean. You take my breath away.”

She leans in to kiss him, but he backs off slightly. Oh, how this hurts to do. It hurts her too – he can see it in her eyes.

She nearly whispers, “It’s because of Finn.”

He brings her hand up to his mouth and his eyes smolder into hers as he presses a kiss against the underside of her wrist, feeling her pulse under his lips.

“I don’t want to stop,” he intones.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

The gaze they hold bleeds with need.

And lust.

The music begins to crescendo and he tilts her chin in the direction of their aqua-ballet. She watches the show in awe and he watches her in reverence.

Her eyes are round on the performance, but he would do  _ anything  _ to see her submit to him once more, eyes closed.

The orchestra lights the air with its beauty, but he would silence it all for her sighs.

He’s just dressed her so beautifully, but he’d tear it off her in a moment if it meant he could feel her, bare, under his caress again.

He clenches his teeth and turns his eyes toward the finale. She reaches out fast and grips his hand, a dancer has nearly fallen, only to be caught by another diver and plunged back into the globe of shimmering liquid.

“What’s it like, Rey?”

She’s breathless, watching the finale.

“Being without water?”

And this beautiful world  _ rips away. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He lands on his back in the Jakku desert. But it’s not  _ their  _ Jakku desert.

It’s real.

It’s hot. It’s so… so hot. It’s oppressive and steals his breath away.

He tries to move his arms, but he can’t. He’s so weak. Everything  _ hurts.  _ Especially his throat. It felt like dust and dry and crackling and  _ fire. _

“R…” he tries to say her name, but the words won’t come. His head falls to the side, cheek in the sand and he sees her.

She’s so small.

Rey is a child, and her white clothes are torn. Her headwrap is crisp with dried blood as they lay beneath the wreckage of an Empire Era ship.

He’s horrified as this child-Rey turns her face to him. Her lips are white and frayed and her eyes are dull. Her chest heaves with harsh breaths, and it’s like there isn’t enough oxygen. Like there will never be enough oxygen.

She says one word, her voice breaking, “R’iia,” and the sandstorm hits.

It’s in his nose, in his mouth, in his eyes, ears – everywhere. It stings like papercuts as it whips all around them. With great effort, he tugs his body to the side and tries to block his mouth enough to let him draw in air without breathing in the desert.

Rey.

He grips the shifting ground and lifts his husk of a body. He has no muscle left; he’s moving by sheer strength of will alone. He angles his body in her direction, fumbling until he is atop her. Her tiny body cradles under his chest as he covers her and tries to protect her head with his arms.

Her hand clasps her bloody headscarf against her mouth to shield her lungs from the debris, lifting the other side to cover his, as well.

He doesn’t have the energy to panic. He is wilting. He thinks he will die – and maybe that will be alright. He curls his body over hers and a single thought loops through his mind.

_ She’s so small. She’s so small. She’s so -small-. _

As quickly as it started, the wind subsides and he rolls off of her, feeling strange. He opens his crusted eyes to see her, still gasping. Skin flaking off in places. He holds his hand out to her – only his is small now, too.

They are children, choking in the sand. They are dying.

He hears her sweet voice once more, rasping, pleading, conferring, “Water is  _ life _ , Ben.”

And he understands.


	15. The Gods of Death

Art by [Kittrose](https://www.deviantart.com/kittrose/gallery/all) with permissions. This piece was not made for this fanfic and is a part of her personal body of work. <3 (So very, very, pretty) 

  
  


_________________

He can’t breathe. He tries to wash himself in a blanket of control – but he  _ can’t. _

Rey is in his arms as they sit on the tiled floor of the shower. Cold water pummels them. Kylo opens his mouth and can’t help but gulp it down – but it doesn’t soothe the dryness. His throat feels like it’s lacerated with sand, and all he can see is Rey. 

Tiny, so small… dying of thirst.

Horror seeps into him as he realizes, really  _ realizes  _ what it meant for her to grow up alone in that harsh environment. At least, if he had hurt himself during one of his… fits… there was something  _ there.  _ Something to  _ help. _

Something to make sure he had  _ water. _

How foolish and childish he feels, his bitterness towards others turning in on himself.

The stream cascades down his face and between his lips as he holds her over his lap. The drops tap onto her eyelids and pool in her clothing. He cups his hands and pours moisture over her scalp. It’s likely meaningless, but he drips small beads of liquid into her mouth for good measure.

Finn slams open the ‘fresher door in a panicked fury, “Where  _ is  _ she?” before he spots them on the floor, soaked to the skin. Kylo doesn’t doubt that he looks pathetic right now – but can’t bring himself to care.

It’s just  _ Finn. _

“What are you doing?” the man accuses, eyeing Rey with a worried stare. Then, Finn’s eyes drop to the side. He’s… listening.

Kylo watches the man’s face run through a gamut of emotions. Irritation, confusion, horror, sadness. Finn looks at Kylo and his face changes once more.

Pity.

And then, Kylo’s anger falls over him like a fog. Drowning out the other emotions, settling his expression into stone.

For a minute, all he can hear is the spray against him. Then -

“She says it’s okay.” Finn breathes softly before pausing, eyes seeming to look inside himself. He nearly whispers. “She says it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Kylo can’t help it, he pulls her up and cradles her, feeling his face grow mournful again. Unexpectedly, he doesn’t sense Finn bristle or resist his actions. All Kylo feels is the man’s sadness and commiseration as Kylo rocks Rey in his arms, burying his nose in her sopping hair. Rivulets of wetness running down his forehead and nose as her buns come slowly undone with the heavy rain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo’s hair is drying into semi waves as he sits, legs crossed, in his  _ special  _ place. His eyes are closed as he mediates and lightly floats, papers and artifacts hovering around him.

He raises his face to the ceiling and inhales in a deep breath, gently settling to the floor, looking around.

He’d lied to Lando. He’s never been able to open the Light side Holocrons he’d collected. 

On the main deck above him, he'd left a small portion of them in one of the spare quarters. Neatly displayed – as was his nature. But it was just for show. He had squirreled most away down here. 

Let’s say it was for curiosity’s sake. Or safekeeping. Finn seems fond of just throwing things away. Even the precious history recorded inside these ancient vessels.

He selects one at random and holds it in his hands. It used to be so easy… but his mind goes back to having to  _ leverage  _ both Finn -and- Rey to do something so simple.

He slides his fingers across the filigree and decides to try once more. Reaching in with his mind, his emotions spike…

…because it  _ actually opens. _

Kylo’s eyes go wide as he devours the hidden knowledge inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There. All settled now.”

Finn had tried to put her hair back into the buns – but after pulling out more than a few strands of her hair, he gave that up quickly.

She’s still drying off as he brushes her tresses straight.

“I can’t believe he would freak out like that. Him of all people. I didn’t think he was capable of anything other than anger, cockiness, and sarcasm.”

_ He felt what I felt, I think,  _ Rey says inside him.  _ I know that I panicked the first time that happened. _

Ren must be close by; Finn can hear her more clearly than usual. Little did he know, the Darksider was almost directly beneath them.

It took him a second, but then Finn actually caught on to what Rey had just said.

“The _ first _ time?”

He feels a sardonic wave wash over him.

_ The first of -many-. I got better at it, over time… but it was always scary. And it always -hurt-. _

Finn’s lips pull into a grim line as he finishes up his job. He’d never really seen her with her hair down before. She’s beautiful. He steels himself, staring at her for a long while, biting his lip in contemplation…

... before deciding to let her go.

She’s not his. She is never going to be his. Her heart belongs to the man who desperately held her in the drenching water to soothe their shared thirst. The acceptance finally makes it hurt less.

A little less, anyway.

“Rey…” he starts, before it feels like she suddenly  _ screams  _ in agony inside him.

He clutches his chest in pain and grunts hard before sucking air in through his teeth, nearly doubled over.

“Rey – what…?“

Her dread overwhelms him as her voice is frantic.  _ Something’s wrong. _

_“What’s_ wrong?”

_ I don’t know. Something’s coming – something close. It’s -wrong-. Everyone’s afraid. And... it -hurts-. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chewie nearly jumps when New Boy bursts into  _ his area. _

“We need to get on-planet!” New Boy nearly screams.

“Which?” he moans out sarcastically, gesturing at the infinite blackness.

New Boy’s eyes circle around through the viewport before his finger jabs down. “Rey says it’s _that_ one.”

He whines, fingering his datapad. “Nearly unknown. What’s there?”

New Boy stares him right in the eyes. Fierce. Like a Warrior.

“Danger.”

And Chewie can’t deny the excitement that comes. He pivots the ship toward New Boy’s pointing finger.

Danger is something he’s good at dealing with.

…Now, where is Stupid Boy? Danger is something  _ he’s  _ good at dealing with, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t find him, let’s just  _ go,”  _ Finn whispers harshly at Chewie, returning from the interior of the ship.

His blaster is in his hand, Rey’s saber at his hip, and the Wookie carries his bowcaster at the ready. Finn doesn’t know what to expect, but his body is taut like a live wire. Rey’s fury  _ roils  _ inside him, and he feels desperately on edge. 

It’s no use telling her to calm down.

The air is heavy with… something… something that curls his toes.

It feels… evil.

They’ve landed on the outskirts of a settlement, and people are  _ fleeing.  _ They carry nothing. No baggage to take with them. But, for all the rushing – almost no one makes a sound other than their gasps and heavy footfalls. Those with kids have their hands clamped around their mouths, silencing them.

Finn grabs an escapee by the arm, spinning him around.

“What’s going on?”

He’d thought the man’s eyes couldn’t go any  _ wider.  _ But he was wrong. His hands wave at Finn’s mouth to shush him as he fervently tries to struggle out of his grasp.

Rey is firm inside him.  _ His mind is howling. All I can hear is, “They’re coming, they’re coming.” _

Finn lets him go, and the man wastes no time in viciously darting away.

Rey’s voice sounds tight.  _ This isn’t the first time that they’ve come… _

More and more pour out of the city center, and Finn and Chewie start to get buffeted around by the mass horde.

The dread that floods him makes him cling closer to his blaster as he starts to work his way to the edge of the exodus, shouldering through as he sees Chewie doing the same.

He can do this. He’s growing stronger in the Force – with Rey’s help.

Rey sounds as if she’s in a trance now, which makes his hackles rise.

_ This is no army. This is no gang. No one knows why the twins descend from the sky – but, when they do, there are few survivors. They -devour- until they are sated and return to sleep. _

“What do they devour?”

Chewie is close behind him now and howls out his confusion.

_ The Force. _

And then he sees…  _ Them. _

They are one body – humanoid in nature – but Their edges bleed into nothing, making Their silhouette seem to  _ wisp. _ It’s hard to look at for too long as the body keeps  _ shifting.  _ Male – to female – to male.

A voice echoes in his head. It alters its pitch alongside its form – high, then low. Hypnotic.

Some of the runners freeze in their tracks, turning to stand in awe as the creature’s voices  _ pummel _ into their minds. The threat is unmistakable, and Finn feels fear take him over.

Their voices pulse. Loud. Terrifying. Simply:

_ “We -hear- you.” _

Rey’s horror adds to his as her trance-like voice continues.  _ Adro and Adroa.  _

_ The Gods of Death. _

The mist that surrounds the creature  _ expands  _ around their body. Malevolent and  _ fast._ The first body drops, snatched by a whip-fast tendril. Violent, but silent. 

Finn hears a small cry from the fallen one, like the wail of an animal, as it’s dragged into the fog. The sound cuts out mid-moan, as if it had been muzzled. But he instinctively knows... that wasn’t it. The haze retreats, but the body is gone. Finn’s blood runs cold.

More limbs made of air spike out at high speed, grabbing anyone and anything in its path. Still – the throng tries to remain silent, even as their pace picks up and the stink of their sweat clots in the air.

One by one by one, they fall. A gasp, a grunt, the sound of nails grinding into the ground as they try to pull away from the black air that captures them. But none of them make it out.

Trees brown as the Gods approach. Grass withers into nothingness. Puddles dry and the earth beneath them  _ cracks. _

Rey was right. 

Few will survive.

Adro and Adroa step closer, nearing Finn and Chewie, the mist reaching out like fingers, turning everything near to decay… but it doesn’t touch them. It skirts around them, flanking them, nearly trapping them. Finn thinks for the first time - 

_ I’m going to die. _

Those fluxing voices caress him in curiosity.

The female intones, “I feel you…” fading into male,

_ "Boy.” _

Her skin is white as alabaster and His is black as night. Dark gold tribal marks cut down Her face and His mirrors them in silver. Their color and shape  _ morphs.  _ Curves to cut muscle and back again.

The female grins, “Or rather… I feel  _ her…” _

“ _Within_ you,” He finishes.

“Her  _ Light.”  _ The woman’s face is predatory. “I want it.”

“She may not physically be _here…”_ He growls.

“But she’s laced into  _ you.” _

“And we will NOT STOP until we are fed.”

Finn feels it as she does it. A familiar distance is put between him and his body as Rey does it once more – she  _ steps in,  _ and he has never felt so grateful to let go of control.

His body lights on fire as an arc cascades down from the sky, his… her… fingers splay with brutal tension.

The spear of white drives down like a curtain, and power fills him.

Unexpectedly, Rey can  _ hear him, _ now. Hear his thoughts. His mind echoes, awed; he’s never seen her do this before… she’s so  _ strong. _

_ I can tap into a wellspring from this in-between place. It will be alright, Finn. I’ve got you. _

Adro  _ screeches  _ in a searing pain that echoes through the Force around Him, but He quickly alters course, melting into His twin, who  _ basks  _ in it. Soaking up the energy as it crackles through Her. She looks… exalted.

“Yes, darling girl. Perfect,” Her voice is triumphant as she tips Her mouth to the sky and into the beam.

The Rey within him shakes, terrified.  _ She’s… she’s -eating- it. _

She retracts Finn’s hand like it’s been bitten, elbow shooting back behind him.

Adroa almost whines, “Don’t stop, child. If you won’t give me what I want…”

“I’ll just _take_ it,” Adro hisses.

Unbeknownst to Finn, Chewie has backed off into a run, howling at him to follow – but he can’t.

Rey won’t let him.

Desperation. Fear. Rage. They envelop Finn’s body, Rey heaping her feelings on top into a crushing weight of Darkness. 

Adro rakes his hand out and Finn/Rey feels a painful  _ pull. _

Rey realizes,  _ He eats the Dark – and She eats the Light. _

All around them, more bodies fall with huffs and small cries. Dirt scuffles and drags, rocks catching and clattering.

Finn feels their lives snuff out, again and again.

One by One by One.

He feels his hand fly to his waist, and Rey’s saber dances in formations that he doesn’t know. His knees bend, hunching down… ready to spring.

Finn’s… no, _Rey’s_ senses go on high alert as the mist darts around in flickers, starting now with the children; grasping them from their mothers’ arms, dragging them deep within. The little ones don’t know to silence themselves.

And their screams will live in his mind forever.

They need to end this  _ now. _

Rey grasps hold of his mind, settling him heavily into a crouch, saber at the ready. Somehow –  _ somehow  _ – she manages to close his eyes… and he just  _ breathes,  _ feeling power and Light fill him once more.

“That’s right, darling girl!” cries the female, opening Her arms in a beckoning gesture.

And She  _ drags _ the Light from within them.

Finn wants to go to his knees with the strain of the Force stripping from his body. Rey is holding him steady… but he can’t… they _ can’t… _

With a sharp CRACK, a streak of red flies over Finn’s head and straight into Adroa who bawls out, the sound piercing through his ear drums as he feels Her grip on him loosen. He rasps in harsh breaths.

Ren steps beside him and radiates  _ danger _ and  _ menace _ and  _ bloodlust _ .

Red static charges of light flicker across his fingers as they twitch, slightly. His eyes slide to Finn.

Rey’s voice is filled with strength as she affirms,  _ We finish this. Together. _

And Ren nods. He can hear her...

Finn and Ren’s blue blades stand before them as Adroa

shifts once more. Adro’s grin is pointed. “Darksider. You have what I need…” His voice greedy, “… and you have it in _droves.”_

Just as he sees the dark God’s hand reach out, Rey  _ pulls  _ into Finn, pushing out that same arc of white light and Adro is not quick enough to stray away from it. He cries out and

fades into Her, only to be bombarded by Ren with another vicious strike.

Simultaneously, they disengage their blades, clicking them into holsters. Ren reaches out and  _ grasps  _ Finn’s hand. But it’s not really  _ his  _ hand anymore. 

It’s Rey’s.

Their silent words echo in Finn’s mind – telepathic.

_ He’s about to… _

_ I see it! _

Ren and Rey are interlocked.

Finn marvels behind his own eyes, which now shine with her hazel glow. His hand is clasped in Ren’s hot vice grip as the two Force masters pull from each other – crackling red and searing white flowing from them in synchronization every time the twins  _ blur. _

It’s cringing into itself now, the mists receding and cloaking, yet offering no protection. Hisses and spits, threatens and screams, unknown sounds of lament and torture fly from Their shifting mouths.

Finn feels it first. 

Ren and Rey lean more heavily on each other, pulling one to the front as the other  _ rolls behind  _ to take a small breath before sending another battle wave of Force energy out into the black haze.

The twins recoil but – Finn understands… They _know_ Their attackers are weakening. If They can just endure these strikes _long enough…_

Finn wants to intervene, but his mind hovers above this place. Able to see – but not to  _ be.  _ Still, he hears them...

_ It’s not enough. _

_ I don’t -lose-. Especially not to creatures like -that-,  _ Ren snarls beside him, snapping his wrist away to double down on his output, the sky clouding and frothing and  _ flaring  _ red.

The heavens open up and pour down sizzling crimson, not hitting the Gods – but caging Them.

_ He’ll do it now. _

_ I know. _

_ We can do this. _

Rey opens up her heart, Finn’s heart, and waves of Light pour from her body, filling the space between Ren’s lighting with white  _ fire. _

The Gods are corralled, mewling and screeching. The cage fluxes, in and out, Dark inside, Light inside – giving the Gods no quarter even though the trio’s heads are splitting from their echoing wails. Finn’s blood curdles.

_ I can’t, Ben. I can’t… _

_ Just hold on. _

When their shoulders touch, they  _ surge _ again, the Force pouring from them like a waterfall. Pain lances through Finn, but he can’t tell if it’s from Adro and Adroa…

Or Ren and Rey.

Ren’s teeth are showing and sweat beads on his forehead, which is so deeply furrowed that the brows almost  _ touch. _

Suddenly, a gurgling GROWL rages from behind them. Finn senses, more than sees, Chewie thrust up his bowcaster and lob projectiles out with rapid precision.

There is a sickening THWACK! THWACK! As Finn sees a set of holes rip open into Adroa’s side before She slips

into Her brother’s body – showing no signs of injury.

But Chewie won’t stop.

Bolt after bolt after bolt flies over Finn’s shoulder, and he feels the Wookie’s heavy stomps jumping forward until he stands alongside them.

Deep pits and craters blow through the twins’ body – so rapidly now that it doesn’t matter whether it shows pale or darkness. Curves or raw muscle.

Red bleeds from them, either way.

Their mists thunder around them, pulling Their body into shreds as Ren and Rey  _ push  _ once more, the barrier closing in. And in. And in.

Until the screaming finally…  _ stops.  _ The mutating body sears away, and all that’s left is dark fog. Nothing else. 

Not even the bodies of the fallen.

Simultaneously, Ren and Rey  _ let go. _ Finn staggers back, an empty vessel.

His last thought as he cascades to the ground is that he’s actually grateful that Ren is strong in the Dark side.

Then, everything goes black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sets New Boy down in his tiny quarters and feels overwhelmed. He’s seen people use the Force for longer than these children have been alive…

But he’s  _ never _ seen anything like that.

Chewie had doubts that the Strong Girl really lived inside the New Boy…

…but after what he just saw?

There is no doubt.

Chewie puts a heavy paw over New Boy’s head and replays what just happened in his mind.

He feels bad about running away in the middle of a fight – but he knew they needed help. He knew they needed  _ him. _

He understands now, just how dangerous Stupid Boy can be.

He finds himself... grateful. Appreciating that they are now allied with him. Chewie begins to wonder if he’ll  _ stay…  _ and he thinks he will. 

At least, until Strong Girl wakes up.

Selfishly, Chewie almost hopes she doesn’t wake up any time soon.

Because then Stupid Boy will  _ stay. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo’s hand hovers weakly over a set of Holocrons. One Sith, One Jedi. Both blank and ready to be filled with information.

He’s never gotten to record a Holocron before.

But this needs to be documented. This was  _ new.  _ What had happened… it was  _ unique.  _ Special. Perhaps due to their Dyad? He’s unsure… but, in a way, he hopes so.

Because it would emphasize that their connection was special.

_ They  _ were special.

His hand fluctuates from red to blue… which one?

Unfortunately, his hand drifts over to the red.

Both his Force Programming and the Red Lighting he’d used instinctively are techniques that have ‘Dark side’ emblazoned on them – no matter how much he’s trying to convince himself otherwise.

He scrubs his hands over his face, retreating into a hunched squat, resting his forehead on his mid-thighs. He palms his pants, wiping off the stick of sweat, realizing that – with this battle – he’s pulled further into the Darkness… and farther away from saving Rey. What would recording a Sith Holocron mean for his ‘Balance’?

He knows he’ll never be able to do it.

He’ll never be able to purge the Dark side from him.

His chest hurts, and he’s exhausted. He sinks onto his rear, letting his back stutter against the wall as he slides down.

He muses over the Grey Jedi. They sought to balance their power in both the Dark and the Light, though each individual inevitably rode one side of the line harder than the other.

It just so happens he’d seen a Holocron on that very subject, earlier. A Light side one he’d opened on his own. 

Perhaps he can use his Darkness, but channel it towards positive outcomes…?

He still wants power; he admits it to himself. But, perhaps the power he seeks could have a purpose more rooted in… goodness.

Doubt floods him again. What good could he really do? What good could  _ Kylo Ren  _ bring? All his regime had brought was occupation and subjugation and entire planets being cracked open from the inside.

It doesn’t matter that he had already defected before the attack on Kajimi. In the end, he had helped build the culture Snoke desired – one that had made it acceptable to do such a thing in the first place.

And, as Supreme Leader, he had done nothing to change it.

Why create Star Destroyers if not to let them follow their namesakes?

Shifting his eyes to the side, remorse spreading in his chest, he grabs the red vessel…

…and starts his recording.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having fun with me, yet?? Ooooh I’m liking what I’m doing - and I’m excited for you to see what’s coming next. <3 We’re plotted out, allllll the way to the end, my Beautiful Readers!
> 
> Having fun? Tell a friend. 
> 
> Do you draw? Draw me the Gods of Death. I know what they look like in -my- mind. What do they look like in yours?
> 
> XO


	16. Rey in Nowhere Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the end of this, I make several references to the comic books. 'The Rise of Kylo Ren', 'The Age of the Resistance - Supreme Leader Snoke' and 'The Age of the Resistance - Kylo Ren'. I highly recommend picking them up. They're cheap on Comixology.

Art by [Natalie Herrera](https://www.artstation.com/geirahod) (With permission~)

  
  


_________________

Rey opens her eyes – but does she really?

Exhaustion, fatigue, weariness… depletion. She’d felt this only once before, when she went to her knees in Exegol. After she’d let Palpatine tear himself to shreds.

That was when she died. But, didn’t.

White surrounds her, either in front of her or behind her eyelids - she can’t tell. She makes an effort to move… but it’s so subtle. Like a twitch. Like Ben’s smile.

_ Ben.  _ She’d never felt so entwined with him. Not even in Snoke’s throne room. The power between them was electric – and when they touched, it was like the Force  _ exploded  _ from them. Was this the power of their Dyad? Was this what he knew they were capable of together, when he asked her to join him? 

_ Finn. _ She can’t hear him. She feebly reaches out with her mind and finds she can’t  _ feel _ him either. Her will falters. Fades. Ends.

Did she die for real this time? Did Ben breathe his last after using too much power, releasing her to become one with the Force? Did he follow her? If so – where is he?

Dread fills her. What if he can’t come with her? What if…?

Her thought can’t complete as her heart breaks to think about what it would mean to be without him. Without him for  _ eternity. _ The sorrow floods her. Fear, pain, anger… suffering. Suddenly, power begins to flow back into her – but it feels strange. As strange as it felt when lightning roared from her fingertips, detonating the First Order transport that she’d thought to hold Chewie.

The Dark side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She’s on Jakku standing outside of Niima. Plutt stands before her, behind his barbed-wire window. This feels so hauntingly familiar. Even her stomach roars with hunger inside her. She palms it, knowing that it’s never done her any good, as she hands over some high-tier parts she’d scavenged.

“Four and a half portions.”

She feels defeated, as she’s felt many times before. How hard will this creature work to break her? “You’ve paid me double that in the past,” she intones – so close to begging that she becomes sick with herself.

“Markets change, scavenger. I pay you what it’s worth.” He looks at her with obvious distaste. As if even dealing with her – or any of them – was an act beneath him and he’s regretting his lot in life. Her thoughts turn bitter; if he feels that way, it’s no comparison to how she and her fellow compatriots feel. Each near starving. Cursed only by this vicious planet…

… and this heartless Crolute.

“No.” The words are out of her mouth before she realizes she’s said them.

Unkar’s pinkish face flares with deeper color, his flattened nose flaring. “No?”

She shoves his rations back at him, filled with disgust. “No.”

The tech-hunters behind her stifle gasps as they greedily eye Rey’s portions, lamenting that she didn’t throw them to the ground versus back into the junk dealer’s hulking frame.

Rey unholsters her staff and holds it defiantly, eyes hot on him. The creature stands to his full height and plods towards the exit of his confining shack. His feet hammer the sand below his feet, pounding into it with the sheer weight of him. It’s obvious from the look in his eyes that he needs to set an example. Rey feels a cold anger wash through her.

Let him try it.

Plutt lunges forward with a heavy arm, stubbed fingers widened, intending to grab onto her scrawny arm. He’s lightyears too slow as Rey pulls back and  _ thwacks  _ him, hard, on his forearm.

Before he even has a chance to flinch back, she’s on him again, striking stinging blows on his shoulders and sides before driving her pole at half-strength into his chest, knocking him back onto his ample rear.

He fingers at his sternum, narrowing his eyes, zeroing in on her. “Girl, your life is over. I will  _ never  _ feed you again!”

Rey bellows, “Feed me?  _ Feed me?!”  _ Her quarterstaff gestures behind her to the gathering of voyeurs and she screams to the crowd, “And which one of you feels  _ FED?” _

Unhappy grumbles rise from the gathered species.

Unkar starts to stand again, but Rey is awash in vengeance. She advances again, not stinging this time –  _ ramming.  _ Hurting. Humiliating. Viciously, she bites out words of wrath.

“I was just a  _ child  _ when I came to you!” She sweeps his legs out from under him. “Because of you, I’ve nearly  _ starved.  _ Died.” She slams her rod into his right arm, breaking the bone under the thick slab of meat. “Shrivelled to  _ nothing _ with lack of water.” Similarly, a blow crunches into his kneecap and the creature howls, turning into a fetal position.

She looks at him now, whimpering and rocking on his side. Righteous fury overwhelms her.

“I will NEVER let you deprive me, again.”

She launches herself at the locked door leading behind his barbed window. Unkar cries out and tries to crawl to his knees, but screams in wet noises as his shattered bones grind underneath his weight. As he goes down again, Rey rams  _ harder  _ and  _ harder  _ until the splintering wood gives way.

Inside, she marvels at the stacks of portions surrounding her. Green and life-giving. She wastes no time.

Packets rain from the hole in his wall and the scavengers around her cry out, scrambling over each other. She absent-mindedly hopes that it doesn’t cause a riot, but almost doesn’t care if it does. Her arms  _ burn  _ with the effort and speed she’s leveraging to throw rack after rack after rack out into the crowd. Once empty, she glides back out and stares down and the cowering animal that was her slave-master.

“I am  _ free  _ now.”

And the sands drain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She’s a little girl again, and she is desperate. She clings, so tightly, her voice raw from screaming, “DON’T GO!! COME BACK!!  _ PLEASE!” _

She knows this little girl. She spent her whole life  _ remaining  _ this little girl. Begging and pleading and waiting for someone to come back to her. _For_ her.

Her parent’s faces swim, unclear – like her memory – as Unkar Plutt’s heavy hand starts to drag her away.

Sorrow rises once more. Then panic. But… slowly, understanding blooms in her chest like a lotus flower.

The scene slows down, then stops all together. The quiet echoes around her as she kneels in front of the foggy faces of her mother and father. She hovers her hands over their apparitions, letting each fingertip pass through them like the memories they are.

The pain ebbs away from her. Their abandonment makes more sense. It was because they were trying to save her. They left her to  _ save  _ her. Tears spill from her eyes, gentle but thick, dropping from her cheeks like rainfall.

“Thank you.”

Her tally-mark wall stands beside her now, each tick glowing a white line. Her hands flow over them, feeling the pain of each passing day, until – one by one – they begin to dissolve. The feeling of being cast aside turning into pride for her parents’ courage.

Into pride in herself for surviving…

… and for beating her grandfather into dust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tech whirs all around her, dilapidated with wiring laid out in a haphazard, overly complex mess. How she just wants to take it all apart and put it back together in a way that makes more sense.

A familiar gruff voice calls out above her, “C’mon, kid – I’ve got some people I want you to meet.”

Rey looks into the worn face, stunned, lifting her hands up above the maintenance area’s grating. When their palms clasp, she’s flooded with a warm nostalgia as he half-smirks in her direction. Han Solo leads her from the Falcon into the lukewarm sun. 

Leia stands before her, hands clasped demurely though she emanates such strength and determination that it’s nearly staggering. Luke stands to her side, gaze still sarcastic but missing the pain and conflict she’d associated with him since the moment they’d met.

Han gestures at them with a wide and proud grin.

A family.  _ Her  _ family?

_ Yes… mine,  _ she thinks. Harshly. Greedily. But… wait.

“Where’s Ben?”

Han’s face falls. He breathes in deeply, filling his chest. “We don’t need him.”

Luke holds his metallic hand out to her in a gesture of beckoning. “We have  _ you.” _

Leia steps forward, “You’re so strong in the Light, Rey. Can’t you see that? We -feel- it. It shines from you like the sun.”

Rey’s mind digs in its heels, “Where is  _ Ben?” _

And, at first, she’s in the white nothingness again - until suddenly, a lavish room fades into reality around her. 

Leia stands in front of an enormous, expensive-looking mirror, making sure that not a single hair on her head is out of place. Rey has to gaze up to see her. The woman turns around to look at her and there is a special something in her eyes.

Leia steps forward and claps her hands over Rey’s shoulders and smiles a pained smile. The grown woman’s voice is soothing and full of love – yet Rey still feels hollow.

“It’s alright, little Angel. It’s only a few weeks.”

“It’s  _ always  _ a few weeks,” Rey can’t help but say. Her voice is young and high-pitched, but still deeper than the sound she recognized to be her own.

Leia’s face pulls into a stern frown. “Ben. We’ve talked about this. There are more important things than you or I at stake here. The Galaxy needs me. It needs my vote.”

The childish voice rings out again, “But – you said you already  _ voted  _ on this. More than once!”

Leia sighs a heavy sigh, “And this time, we might have enough votes on our side to actually _pass_ it through the Senate. But, I need to be there. I need to make sure people _stay convinced_ that this is the right thing to do.”

Rey feels Leia’s ringed fingers pass through her hair and a swell of love floods her. The hair shuffles in waves around her eyes, black as night.

“Besides, your father will be here with you. And Chewie. You won’t be alone, Angel. I’d  _ never  _ leave you alone.”

Rey feels her eyes grow wet, but a stubborn determination rises in her. She will not cry. She. Will. Not. Cry. The voice will never let her live it down if she cries.

Wait… the voice...?

Leia lifts up her small chin with a soft smile. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, my darling.”

The door slides closed behind her and a few moments pass before Han peeks out with the grin of a scoundrel. “Is she gone, kid?”

Rey nods, seeing that black hair sweep over her eyes again before she strokes its softness back behind her ears. She knows, instinctively, that she is ashamed of these ears, so she pulls her hair back out in front anyway.

Let it be in her eyes; she doesn’t care.

Han is devilish as he hikes his pack up higher over his shoulder. “Perfect. Now, remember what I said – this is our little secret.”

Rey nods, but feels a flare of possessiveness rend through her. “I want to  _ come with you _ . Why can’t I, Dad? You’ve let me come with you before-“

Han shakes his head and holds up one hand, dismissing the question. “We’ve talked about this, kid – this one is too dangerous. Your mother is going to have a fit if she knew  _ I  _ was going – never mind if she found out I brought  _ you…” _

Rey’s fear hikes up a notch. She feels so vulnerable, “Then  _ stay,  _ Dad. Stay with me. I don’t want you to get hurt. I… I  _ promise _ I’ll be good. I won’t make you mad, again – I’ll control it, you won’t even have to think abou-“

Han cuts her off again with yet another hand in her hair. “Hey, little Bandit. I know you’re still learning to get that Force stuff under control.” Han pauses, “Your mom thinks it might be a good idea to send you to your uncle...

Rey nearly hisses, “I don’t wanna go.”

Han sighs. “Well, kid – we’ll see. We’ll see. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

He stands and regards her with somewhat of a puzzled face. As if she was something that had to be dealt with… but  _ eventually.  _ Not  _ today. _

Never  _ today. _

Han hikes his pack up once more, “I’ll be back before your mom comes home. So – seven – maybe ten days at the most.”

Rey’s eyes do spill over with tears now.

“Heyyyy - don’t worry, kid. You won’t be all alone. 3-PO’s here.”

Loathing rises in her now. A vicious thought,  _ I hate that droid. _

And then Han is gone.

She hears it then – and she knows the voice immediately.

_ They always leave you… don’t they? They never want to be with you. To -deal- with you.  _

_ They want you to cram that talent of yours so far down that they can’t see it anymore. They’re -afraid- of you. That’s why they want to send you away. That’s why they abandon you to your own devices. _

_ To a -droid-. _

_ But I will never leave you. I will -always- be here. And I will -always- be waiting for you. _

Rey now stands in the middle of the large, opulent, cold and empty room, watching a small Ben Solo scrub his eyes in shame.

She realizes that she doesn’t want this family.

She doesn’t want this family at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stands on the inset that overlooks the walkway on Starkiller base; her heart in her throat as an imaginary, one-dimensional Finn hovers behind her. She can’t interact with him – but that doesn’t matter – because her eyes are glued to someone else.

She hears his mind. Kylo Ren.

_ By the grace of your training, I will not be seduced. _

A red searing fire lights up in a line between Han Solo’s shoulder blades. The man’s hand caresses the face of his unmasked son before his body falls away into an abyss.

Rey SCREAMS and thrusts herself in a leap down to the platform below, Kylo’s mask hissing back into place as his modulator crackles to life. 

“MONSTER!” She flings the insult at him and he takes it in stride. His lightsaber disengages, and he rolls his shoulders slightly back. He’s strong, as strong as he ever was, and she can feel his heated eyes on her.

“Do you know why I had to kill him? Why I had to kill Han Solo?”

“I know  _ everything  _ I need to know about you!”

“You do?” He tilts his head down, “Ohhh…  _ you do _ .” He stalks slightly closer to her, his voice pitching lower, “You still want to kill me? You called me… a monster.”

“You  _ are _ a monster _.” _

He is motionless and his pause holds weight.  _ “Yes I am.” _

Heartrending  _ sorrow  _ and  _ guilt  _ and  _ pain  _ washes over her. So profound that she staggers before raising her weapon. A bright blue lightsaber comes to life with its crashing hum. “You’re  _ haunted,”  _ she grits out. “You can’t stop seeing what you did to your father.”

He approaches her, slowly… menacingly, strange red veins flickering over his mask until new, grooved cracks  _ glow.  _ “I’m going to turn you to the Dark side. When I offer you my hand again, you’re going to take it.”

Her saber pulses in her hand and her body is taut, muscles tensing with unleashed power. “ _ Why? _ Why do you want me to turn to the Dark side so  _ badly?” _

He cocks his head to one side, fluttering his cape behind him, “Because I want you.”

Her heart beats hard in her chest.

“With you by my side, I can solidify my rule in the Galaxy. No one could withstand me.”

Her face falters.

His tone is taunting and cruel, “Oh, Rey. What else could I want you for? I told you before - you’re  _ nothing.  _ But not to me. To me, you are an incredibly precious and powerful…  _ tool.” _

And, at that, Rey lunges on the narrow catwalk, swiping her saber in a blurring line toward his left side. He angles his body ever-so-slightly to dodge her blow, moving  _ just _ out of range.

Her teeth grit as she turns on her heel, striking again and again – but Kylo Ren does not arm himself. He does not ignite his saber.

_ Good. _

She comes at him once more, pivoting, launching herself over his head and flinging her weapon down in a curve that makes him slide to his knees under the weight of the attack before rolling to the side.

It’s then that he ignites his blade, but only to receive her. She parries and  _ slams  _ against his splitting red edge, driving him back and back and back. Rage floods her.

“FIGHT ME!” She gets him into a blade lock, looking up into her own reflection in his visor; the sparks fly around them. Her face twists into a wicked sneer, “Is this DARK enough for you?” 

She  _ shoves  _ and he loses his footing, sliding over the walkway, grasping at the last minute, fist clenched against the edge like it's his salvation. Because that's exactly what it is.

Rey stalks around him, staring down at this pathetic man. One who wouldn’t even raise his blade against her unless she attacked him first. 

Suddenly, her eyes widen in realization… _ unless she attacked him first _ .

Takodana – she’d fired blaster bolts and he’d deflected them before freezing her in place.

Starkiller base – she’d raised her blaster to kill him and he’d flung her into a tree.

Again on Starkiller – she’d pulled the saber to her and ignited it, lunging first. He had many opportunities to wound her, maim her… kill her… and he had taken  _ none  _ of them. He’d wanted her, even then. To train her. To teach her…

…And she’d split his face open.

On Pasaana – he’d flown towards her and she’d clipped his ship’s wing, flinging him into a fireball that she still has no idea how he survived. Even then, he’d made no move to advance on her.

Kajimi, through the bond. He’d pushed her, wanting her to remember her parents – and she’d gone on the attack, destroying the one thing he’d held most dear in his adult life… and still, he’d held his hand out to her. To ask her to join him.

On the Death Star – just like now, she’d come at him with his weapon disengaged and he’d merely dodged her, before leaping away.

And then she’d nearly killed him. 

He’d  _ never  _ struck at her first. Not  _ once _ .

Rey drops her saber to the grating in a clatter, gasping in short breaths before falling to her knees to grab at him. She digs her heels into the paneling and  _ pulls. _

“The conflict in you... it’s tearing you apart…” Her voice is the echo of a memory. She huffs in a stuttered breath and realizes, “it’s  _ always  _ been tearing you apart.” 

They both succeed in  _ yanking  _ him up over the edge, though his legs still dangle down. Before he can stop her, she grasps his mask and disengages it with a hiss, dropping it heavily beside them. His eyes are wide, fearful… but not afraid of what she might do. He’s afraid of what she might  _ say. _

“And I’m not a tool to you, Ben.” She touches his face, sliding her thumb over his cheek in the same pattern his father had trailed.

“You love me… I think you’ve always known that you would love me,” she says softly. His eyes close and wet drops slide from between his eyelashes. His lips are plush as they begin to tremble. He is at her mercy.

“Just like I love you,” she whispers. His eyes fly open and  _ bore  _ into hers. Searching. Hoping. Pleading.

Rey rushes in and grasps the sides of his face, pulling him into a fervent and feverish kiss. He responds, dragging the rest of his body over the side of the catwalk before engulfing her in his arms. He clings to her, as if she might disappear at any moment…

And she does.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rey bristles. She can’t help it. 

Her doppelganger stands before her, a double-bladed red edge swooping out into a lethal saber staff. Her black robes flutter around her, and her presence exudes danger.

“So you think you’re better than me, then?” the dark woman whispers like silk.

Rey stares at herself in the inverse. Her white clothes seem to shine in this gray place. The remains of the Death Star. Palpatine’s throne room.

Rey’s jaw tilts up. “Yes.”

The other her nearly sniggers, “And why is the Light side so much better than the Dark side?”

Rey scoffs, “I work to  _ end  _ conflict. I work to  _ save  _ people.”

Dark Rey smiles like a snake. “And how many have the Resistance killed to ‘save’? Not even the First Order – how many of themselves? Bad leadership, putting people in senseless danger.”

Rey’s mind goes to Poe. To the incessant pulse in his brain to “blow things up.” She grimaces slightly, remembering the stories. Finn had mentioned that he’d been made (co)general alongside Poe, and Rey had been floored. Stories painted the Pilot as unable to follow orders, a mutineer, and someone so trigger-happy that he led the small tide of Resistance members to the Final Order too early, resulting in catastrophic deaths before Lando’s reinforcements arrived.

She pulls her lips into a scowl. “The-“

“Ends justify the means, Rey of the Light?” Her twin nods slowly. “You’re just like the Darksiders, aren’t you?”

Rey twitches backwards, slightly. “No. I’m not.”

Dark Rey twirls her saber staff in her hand. “What was the First Order trying to achieve?”

Rey’s eyes narrow. “Galactic Domination.”

“Why?”

“Power. Ego. Darkness.”

Dark Rey titters again, “Well, that’s definitely a part of it. To what end, though?”

Rey nearly shrugs. How is she supposed to…

…Wait.

“Ben said that democracy took too long. With no leader, they were subject to corruption and… they weren’t able to act. To get anything done.”

“And did you know that there were planets and systems that folded into the First Order willingly? Those who’d been rebuffed and ignored by the New Republic?”

Light Rey hesitated and Dark Rey sneered.

“Not part of the propaganda you were fed, was it?”

Rey nearly cries out, “But – what about Palpatine? He was  _ evil!  _ He and Snoke destroyed systems!”

“Snoke _was _ Palpatine. And, yes. He was evil. And now he is gone.”

Rey pauses for a moment. That means that  _ he’d  _ been in Ben’s head… all this time. 

“Little girl with little training – do you know what the mantra of the Light side is?”

Rey smirks haughtily. She’d read it in her books, and was certainly proud to have cracked  _ that  _ Rosetta Stone. 

“There is no emotion, there is only peace. There is no ignorance, only knowledge. There is no passion, there is only serenity. There is no chaos, there is only harmony.”

Dark Rey nods, still stalking. “And – does that sound true to you? Natural? Can you,  _ you,  _ Rey – can you have no emotion? And - ignorance, do you believe you have nothing left to learn? Do you not feel  _ passionate  _ about anything? Your cause, your friends? Is there really no such thing as chaos? Nothing you can’t control? Nothing at random in the whole of the universe?”

Rey stutters, “But… the Force…”

“Even the Cosmic Force doesn’t control every aspect of existence.”

Rey looks down at her feet, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. “What's the mantra of the Dark side?”

Now, this other-Rey looks pleased. “Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.”

Rey breaks down every word. She had sought power – to control her use of the Force and use it for her cause. Through her power, she had channeled the Jedi Masters to defeat Palpatine. Through her victory, the First Order – the Final Order - fell, and their rule of subjugation was at an end.

The Force had freed the Galaxy.

She reeled, lightheaded. “What does this mean?” She takes a breath and steps up to her dark twin. Her gaze turns up to those intense eyes. “Who’s right?”

For the first time, the dark woman’s eyes hold no malice. She holds a look that shows a certain relief. As if she’s made a breakthrough. “No one. And also, both.”

The saber staff disengages and clinks as it hits the durasteel below. Dark Rey laces her fingers into Light Rey’s. “Just like we are also  _ both.” _

Rey stares at their interlocked hands and affirms, “Both sides of the Force live within me.”

Dark Rey nods. She’s… shifting somehow. Less black and more… gray. Rey is shifting, too. She knows what this means. She  _ knows  _ what she has to do.

Rey throws her arms around her shadow-self, grasping with intense strength. She’s crushing the woman into her, but feels no resistance. The woman is holding her back just as tightly. 

Rey’s chest  _ burns  _ with an unknown fire as her arms draw ever closer. Resolve and understanding paint their way into her body and mind as she  _ squeezes… _

Tighter and  _ tighter. _

Until Dark Rey is gone.

And her hands only surround herself.

She feels… at peace. Whole. Light  _ and  _ Dark. A Balance. 

“You were made for him, you know.”

Rey whips around fast at the sound of an unexpectedly playful male voice. It’s cheerful, if not a little cocky. She recognizes the robes that flow around him as Jedi robes and wonders if she should feel ashamed at her revelation.

She finds that she doesn’t.

She cocks her eyebrows. “Made for who?”

The man’s grin grows wider. “Ben.” 

He finds the remains of something or other and sets himself down to perch on it. “There is a saying. I’d heard it in the council often. ‘Darkness Rises and Light to meet it.’” He cocks his head in her direction. “That Light was you.”

She’s not sure what to say, so she keeps herself quiet.

The man starts to pick at his own fingers, looking down into his lap uncomfortably. “As soon as his parents sent him away, Ben’s fall to the Dark side was decided. Inevitable.” He looks up at her once more. “That would have been when he was ten… which is right around the time when you were born, Rey.”

Rey’s knees feel a bit weak and she leans on something to balance. The man smiles at her in a kind way before pushing himself up to walk closer. His strides are assured and light.

“A Dyad.” He places his arms behind his back. “You both were prophesized about. Both the Jedi  _ and  _ the Sith waited for you.” His grin turns sardonic. “Though I’d imagine it doesn’t make you feel any better to be prophesized about… it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” He rolls his eyes.

Rey can’t suspend the look of disbelief that settles on her, but the man seems to pay it no mind.

“Have you ever  _ felt _something, Rey? Something you couldn’t explain? Something that you now know you might have felt through the Force?”

Rey’s mind goes back to walking the sands with Unkar Plutt one day. How her spine had shocked with a cold fear and heartsickness she couldn’t define. It had been so  _ intense.  _ It had completely overwhelmed her.

“Ah – yes… that would be when Ben bled his kyber crystal…”

Rey’s mind races as moments cascade before her and the man pairs her feelings to events in Ben’s life.

His fear when he first met the Knights of Ren. He was 14, she was 4.

His sense of betrayal when Luke held his lightsaber over Ben’s head. He was 23…

His fierce determination after his first kill.

His dread at being held in the air by Snoke. High - so high - about to be dropped. About to  _ die  _ if he couldn’t save himself from the man who he thought might actually have  _ cared about him _ . 

His rage as he ripped down the Dagobah cave, hiding his shame at his failure in the rubble.

His triumph after killing the King and the ‘God’ of the Benathy, working to surpass the legends of his Grandfather. Succeeding. 

Emotions flooded into overdrive, Rey goes to her knees. Tears cascade down her face as the disheveled man crouches before her. His voice is soft when he speaks. 

“Your loneliness - his loneliness… you felt them in each other. Stacked those feelings on top of each other’s… but you were never truly alone.”

Rey gazes at the man’s face and it clicks. She’d seen him before. His hair is brown, wild, and wiry. He has a small scar over his eyebrow that reminds her of Ben.

This is the man from the Holocron they’d opened. She doesn’t know it… 

But this man is Anakin Skywalker. 

His smile is small as he intones, “It’s time to wake up, Rey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait!!! Don’t get -too- excited! Kylo still needs to be stronger in the Light before he can -really- wake her up! I just mean that she needs to come out of her dream. :)
> 
> In the next few chapters, which run concurrently with this one, our favorite two boys are Rey-less, because she’s been stuck here!
> 
> (Probably should have flip flopped the chapters in hind sight! Oh well!!)


	17. Stormtrooper Village

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the ending of my last chapter was a little confusing - so BOOM! Another chapter super fast to help clear things up!!

Art by [Hary Istiyoso](https://www.artstation.com/harymachinegun/albums/all) (with Permissions~)

  
  


_________________

Kylo sits straight up in his cot, sweat drenching him. His nightmare echoes in his mind like thunder, and his heart thrums beneath his ribs.

Nightmare? He hasn’t had a true nightmare since Rey had taken over his dreams. Why hadn’t she…?

His face flings in her direction as she lays still beside him. In one swift motion, the sheets flip off and he is padding in bare feet over to her, lowering down the safety rail and pressing his head down over her heart.

He can’t help but feel the depression roll in, even though he already knew that it wouldn’t be beating. His face floods with concern, though. Where was she tonight? Where is she, now? His fingers touch her face, searching for any sign.

Closing his eyes, he reaches out in other ways – but all he can sense is white. White exhaustion.

He opens his eyes, softly looking down on her again. Her hair is down and arranged beautifully around her. He strokes it absentmindedly.

She’s exhausted herself. He nods firmly. That’s all this is. She’ll come back. Of course she’ll come…

Kylo stops as he hears thoughts all around him. Quiet at first, but increasing in number – and  _ volume.  _ There are minds clambering for him, and he always knew when he was being thought of.

But, he’s not the only one being called out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn awakens with a splitting headache to Ren shaking him unceremoniously. “Get up.”

Chewie sits beside him and growls out a kind sound, handing him some water and a medicine pack. His body is sore - as if he’d run, like, a million miles. The look on Ren’s face says that he won’t get any more rest in, though.

Chewie moans a bit, “They want to see us.”

Finn tosses back his medicine and washes it down with the water. “Who?”

Ren stalks from the room. “The people we saved.”

Finn feels hollow and empty. Like there is nothing left in him. It’s like he can’t feel the Force at all. He certainly can’t hear the thoughts of the people they’re talking about.

He rocks to his feet and slings on his jacket as Chewie pats his back, halfway holding him up and halfway dragging him towards the bay doors.

Ren has already hit the button and the ramp is descending, letting in the  _ blinding  _ light of morning. The sun is pointed  _ just _ at eye-level through the opening of the ship. Finn winces, letting his eyes adjust before he looks down.

A horde of people stand before them. They are speechless, saying nothing. A long moment of silence stretches out before the trio as their eyes pass over the village folk they’d just rescued from the Gods of Death.

The first man drops to his knees, face now tipped up to keep eye contact with them.

The next one kneels, pressing his clasped hands to his forehead.

Awe floods Finn as the sea of people shrink down onto their haunches, some pressing their foreheads to the ground, all wordlessly.

Ren strides out among them, as if this wasn’t the first time he’d been greeted in this fashion. Maybe it wasn’t.

Ren’s met by a small semi-circle of people a few feet into the bowing crowd. They hold things out to him, gesturing to both him, Finn and to Chewie.

Ren does his thing and listens to them without needing to hear. He nods at their… intention, Finn guesses, and bends at the waist to receive a small necklace made of trinkets that Finn couldn’t see well from here.

Ren turns and inclines his head in their direction and Chewie’s hand presses on Finn’s back again, guiding him along. The crowd seems to shy away – like they don’t want to touch him, and Finn isn’t exactly sure how to feel about it. About any of this, really. 

After all,  _ he  _ didn’t actually do anything _. _

Still, the Wookie leads him on.

Reaching what he can only assume is some kind of group of leaders, Chewie bends down to receive his pendant as well. When it’s Finn’s turn, though, guilt runs through him. He didn’t earn this.

“Nah – I’m good, thanks though,” Finn nods his head, his lips firm.

The Elders hands all seem to fly to his face to cover his mouth. He’s overwhelmed and is about to throw them off him when a spike  _ drives  _ through his mind. It’s Ren… and  _ Gods,  _ was he always this  _ strong?  _

_ THEY DON’T SPEAK, _ roars into Finn’s mind, making him wince under the weight of all those fingers.

Understanding their point had come across, the Elders back off of him, simply offering the necklace once more. After a short pause, Chewie thumps his back and Finn bows his head – in annoyance, as much as anything else.

He stands, fidgeting with the gift of rawhide thread mixed with colorful beads, stones and patches of soft fur. He nods and, now that the ‘saviors’ have all been decorated, the Elders raise their hands in giant “V”s and all those on the ground follow suit.

The Elders drop and raise their arms several times, each fluxing a wave through the crowd.

It dawns on Finn that this is them… cheering. Thanking them. It also dawns on him that they’d saved all these lives. His sight flows over them. The young, the old, male, female – all just as likely to have been eaten by the Gods as another.

He’d fought to save people, before – but he’d never actually seen the faces of those he’d saved. He thinks about all those he  _ couldn’t  _ save. All of those who were dragged into the deadly fog.

An indescribable feeling wells in him and Finn’s eyes swim with tears, pouring out in pure, raw emotion. Ren cocks an eyebrow at him. He knows he must look pathetic, but he doesn’t care.

It’s just  _ Ren. _

The Elders surround him now, encircling him in a knitted embrace. Their musk is not _ entirely  _ bad as it co-mingles with his. They lay their hands on him in a small spiral before they all begin to  _ rock.  _ Finn closes his eyes in mild confusion but decides to just go with it. Ren and Chewie stand outside the circle. He wonders why he was the only one chosen to be in the center.

_ BECAUSE YOU ARE THE ONE MOURNING WITH THEM,  _ Ren shoves into his mind.

So Finn lets go… and he  _ mourns. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An Elder points in a far-off direction as Ren  _ listens. _

Finn snorts in Chewie’s direction, whispering, “And what could we possibly be looking for, now?”

Chewie’s whine is as soft as it could possibly be, “Stupid Boy thinks there’s more to find here.”

Ren hears them – and so do the village leaders. All eyes and heads turn with a jerk in their direction. Finn backs away slowly and raises his hands in the universal, ‘I mean you no harm’ gesture.

He hears a mechanical whine and hiss as his backside hits steel. Rearing around, he sees the Wookie inside the ship and  _ Raising the God Damned Ramp! _

If Finn’s eyes could scream, they would; trapped here with the wordless masses. Chewie raises a palm and twiddles his fingers mockingly at him before the ramp clamps shut.

Finn’s hands go to his hips and his tongue inserts itself into the side of his mouth, rolling around and puffing out his cheek – as he often did when IRRITATED.

He flings his hands to the air in frustration before stalking over to his resident Darksider.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They say it’s a couple miles up  _ that  _ way.” Kylo nods his head, now that they’re out of hearing distance of the Auwev.

“Why don’t we take the Falcon? We always take the Falcon,” Finn whines. His fingers stroke over the soft fur of his new necklace.

“We’re not burning fuel like that just because you’re…” Kylo watches Finn, his  _ movement _ … and mirth fills his eyes. Kylo removes his own necklace and pockets it, stifling a smile.

Finn still pets his, not wanting to take it off quite yet. “What?”

Kylo looks at the sky, losing the battle with his face.

“What?!”

He turns over his shoulder to face Finn. “That part that you’re petting…?”

Finn strokes it a few more times, “What about it? It’s soft. It smells kinda nice… I like it.”

Kylo  _ snorts,  _ shoulders heaving in shimmers. Finn lets out an exasperated grunt, “WHAT, Ren? What?”

Composing himself, he opens his mouth – and then thinks better of it. “Never mind. Enjoy your trophy.”

Stubbornness has always been one of Finn’s stronger suits, so he leverages that super-power now, continuing to coax his fingers through the soft down.

Kylo just prays to the heavens,  _ Please – oh -please- let me be there when he finds out what that is. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s… eerie. That’s the first word that comes to mind as he approaches this place.

Discomfort rolls from Finn, and Kylo can’t help but agree. Still, he  _ knows  _ this is what else was calling to him. He knows he needs to be here.

Derelict, battered Stormtrooper helmets lay on sturdy pikes. Others attached to the anchor hang in daisy chains. Some have been painted, reds, golds, blacks, blues…

Others remain stark white, save the brown scuffs that rasp over dents in the armor.

It’s like a sea of dead faces on pickets around the entrance to the village. It’s meaning, both a welcome and a warning. Both, ‘Free yourself, brother’ as well as ‘We are Harbingers of Death’’.

As they approach the gate, a fit middle-aged man approaches them; a heavyset blaster firm in his hand, slapping its weight down into his other palm.

“State your business.” The voice holds no room for argument. Just as they’d planned, Finn steps out in front of them with his hands turned palms up.

“We heard this was a safe place for ex-troopers.”

The man cocks his head, “A lot of people would like to get in here and _end_ the safety for the ex-troopers.” He levels his blaster to Finn’s chest. “So how do I know if you want to _join_ the party or _crash_ it?”

Finn’s mouth runs, as it is wont to do, and Kylo groans internally. “Oh – I wanna  _ join  _ it. Like, seriously, I want to  _ join.  _ I’ve never even crashed a party  _ in my life.  _ I wouldn’t even know  _ how-“ _

The trooper cuts him off. Thank God.

“State your call sign.”

Finn’s training kicks in and he straightens his body, clicking his heels for good measure. “FN-2187… I go by Finn, now.” He gestures over his shoulder. “And this is Ren. He was with the Order, too.”

The trooper cocks his gun in Kylo’s direction and repeats, “Call sign.”

Apparently, he hadn’t thought this one through. His mind clicks and whirs before he affirms, solidly, doubtlessly, “RN-218…6.”

Kylo can all but feel Finn bite the sides of his mouth to stop from bursting into laughter. The man’s hands go to his hips and clench his nails into his palms in an effort to quiet himself.

Kylo has half a mind to kill him.

The trooper’s blaster tips up at the sky. “Well, preliminary welcome, boys. Preliminary.” He gestures before himself to where a dead campfire rots.

“You mean, we’re not going in?” Finn asks.

The grey-haired man flicks a longish rattail braid over his shoulder and looks at Finn suspiciously. “What’s the rush, soldier?”

Kylo eyes the man up and down. His clothes are the black under-armour of regulation issue gear. They’re not too shabby, though, which means he’d likely defected alongside the great mutiny after Kajimi.

Kylo’s voice comes out harsh. No harsher than he’d intended, though. “Call sign.”

The trooper’s eyes flick up in a mild interest that masks a small fire of anger. Good – a higher ranking trooper, then. One who was used to having people  _ beneath  _ him.

“CL-3337.” He states, his voice aiming for bland though Kylo knew better.

Finn plunks down with great interest. “What ship were you stationed on?”

The trooper’s eyes lower and regard Finn, giving nothing away, “You?”

Finn doesn’t seem to notice. “The Finalizer.” His face falters slightly. “Erm, sanitation.”

The trooper’s brows knit slightly before a grin splits his face. He sinks down alongside Finn and curls his legs so his knees near his chest. “Not many people would willingly admit that. But,” the man hesitates, “the  _ Finalizer?” _

Kylo almost raises his hand to try to change topics, but is a split second too late. “Oh yeah – back when it was Kylo Ren’s ship. But I defected after…” Finn’s mouth twists and he eyes Kylo pointedly before dropping his sight back to the ground.

The trooper pats Finn on the back, rough, but not uncaring. “I get it.” He sighs heavily. Turning his face to Kylo, who still stands on the path towards the gate, he asks, “And you?”

He crosses his arms in an unfriendly way, deciding it’s best not to answer.

Finn tries to recover for him. “He doesn’t talk much. But man – you should see him fight.”

The trooper raises his eyebrows slightly, “Yeah? What’s your weapon of choice, RN?”

Kylo’s smirk is undeniable. “Pick one.”

He notices that Finn has put his head in his hands.

Unexpectedly, CL-3337 bursts into laughter. A boisterous,  _ noisy  _ sort of laughter, downright slamming Finn good-naturedly on the back. He points in Kylo’s direction while eying Finn, “Now, I  _ like  _ him.” He turns to face Kylo, “If you’d reported to me in the Order – some things might have been different.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” he deadpans, setting the trooper off into refreshed gales.

Kylo can’t help but feel his hackles rise. This man is more of a fool than-

He whips around, fast dodging a blaster bolt that shot out from nowhere.

Two – no,  _ three.  _ He counts them, sizing them up along with their proximity. Finn’s blaster goes up, but not fast enough, so Kylo  _ barrels  _ into a member of the offending party, twisting his arm up with a stomach-turning  _ crack  _ as its shoulder dislocates.

Finn manages to shoot at one, but it’s moving so fast that it’s hard to catch. Either that or Finn’s slowed down, considerably. Kylo flicks his body out of the way just in time for CL to bring it down.

The Darksider pounds his fist into the face of the last one, knocking it backwards. In a deft  _ swipe,  _ he reaches down and grasps an upturned leg and removes its ability to soften the fall’s blow.

Kylo’s boot is at its throat. “Who are you?”

The creature’s hands scramble against the sole of his shoe.

_ Time to earn some Light side points,  _ Kylo thinks, almost humorously.

Kylo reaches into the creature’s mind – but not to take. To soothe. Kylo lulls it. Croons to it. There’s more than one way to earn a secret. “Tell me. Tell me who you are and why you’re here.”

“Bounty,” the creature chokes out a confession...

...Before a shot rings out and the alien goes limp beneath him.

Finn’s eyes are wide as the trooper approaches with heavy footsteps and an even heavier expression. He strides by each body, shooting each one once – and again. Just to be sure.

When he approaches Kylo, he nods his head, to which Kylo backs off and the dead alien is shot once more for good measure.

Kylo placates himself. At least he’d  _ tried  _ to go another way.

“So – I take it you’re being hunted?”

“What gave it away?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn folds his legs underneath him, now that they’re inside the outer fence. When the guard shift changed over, CL-3337 had motioned for them to follow him inside.

Finn’s nose scrunches. It’s not much. Not really. Tents. Group areas. Not nearly as nice as a bunk in a First Order vessel – even though you did have to share.

Food smells good, though. Finn holds the ramshackle dishware in his hands, slurping the stew with his lips.

Finn’s mouth is full, but that doesn’t really stop him, “So what do I call you?”

The trooper lifts his gaze, handing Ren his portion. “I gave you my call sign.”

Finn snuffles as the hot vapor loosens his sinuses. “Yeah, but – what do I  _ call  _ you?” He points to himself. “FN; Finn.” He points to Ren and tries desperately not to roll his eyes, “RN; Ren.” He gestures at their new friend once more only to be scowled at.

“CL-3337 is my call sign. I’ve had it most of my life. For all intents and purposes, Trash Man, that  _ is  _ my name.”

Ren’s smirk pisses Finn right off.

Trash Man. He certainly hopes  _ that  _ won’t stick. Which, with his luck, means that it will now remain his name until the Hutts dissolve.

He grumbles under his breath,  _ “Sanitation worker.” _

Ren, surprisingly, steps in. “Don’t let him trick you. I’ve seen him in battle. He’s worth the armor.”

CL nods at the slang, seeming to warm to Ren a bit more before following up with, “That shitty, shitty armor.”

Before Finn can balk at the cursing, another trooper, a female, lands beside him in a huff. “That shitty, shitty armor,” she echoes…

… and that echo reverberates through camp, picked up and chanted by others.

Finn’s eyes are wide as he glances around. CL snorts in Finn’s direction. “Never seen battle in white armor, Trash Man?” He continues, without waiting for Finn to answer, “Because when we die – we die  _ easy.” _

Ren chews his food thoughtfully. “Why is that? I mean, honestly, unarmed people get shot by a blaster and at least run the risk of just a flesh wound or…  _ something.  _ Troopers just roll over and die – no matter  _ where  _ the blaster bolt hits.”

“Design flaw.” A man from the back corner calls out, trotting over and taking his lunch. “I saved a tech guy when we moved off the Oppression a month or so back. Bastard said that there’d been Rebel and Resistance spies in the design ranks for years, building weaknesses into the armor on purpose.”

Finn’s jaw goes slack. “What?”

The guy takes a slurp, continuing, “Yeah – the heat from blasters gets caught within the armored plating. No escape.”

CL grimaces, “It basically fries you from the inside. By design.”

Finn sets down his bowl, the scent of cooked meat now unwelcome. 

“What’s the plan?” He hears Ren ask.

“Plan?”

“What comes next?”

CL shakes his head somberly. “Nothing. Freedom, maybe.”

Finn feels morose. “Freedom to do what?”

CL raises his shoulders in a half shrug, serving himself. “Everyone can do whatever they want.”

The woman beside him smiles tightly, “Some in my regimen decided to try and find records from the Stormtrooper program. To see if they can bring together families for those of us who are left.”

CL snorts,  _ "That’s _ a pipe dream.”

Another man eating behind Ren waggles his eyebrows at the woman. “Some of us could start our  _ own families…” _

She chucks some nondescript food item at him, huffing out an, "Impossible," but not without a grin first.

Ren catches the eyes of their trooper ‘friend'. “And what are  _ you _ going to do?”

CL sits back and the mood of the gathering  _ shifts.  _ A sort of sadness hangs in the air.

“RN, do you know what ‘repentance’ is?”

Ren nods slowly, and Finn along with him.

Even though no one really asked him, but whatever. He threads his necklace out from inside his shirt and starts to wind his fingers through the beads and stroke the soft hairs again. It’s soothing as he keeps his eyes on the fire.

“That. That’s what I want to do.” CL strips off his gloves and balls his hands up into fists, pointing them in Ren’s direction. Tattooed on his fingers lay a message in bold lettering:

**N** –  **V** –  **R** **4** –  **G** –  **E** –  **T**

On the knuckle of his pointer finger, in the space between the two words, are all sixteen black rays of the First Order’s insignia.

CL shoves his hands back into his gloves, mouth frowning to the point of a grimace. Pinching his fingers back into position, he merely says, “I’ve  _ seen  _ too much.  _ Done  _ too much.” He nods at Ren. “You know what I mean.”

For his part, Ren is silent as he continues to swirl the stew around in his bowl.

“Hey!” Finn hears, catching his attention, as he notices a finger pointing at him. All eyes are on him now as his fingers close around his necklace.

The pointing man laughs, incredulously. “Hey, New guy - do you know what that  _ is?” _

Finn bristles. “It’s a gift. Alright? It’s just… I like it.“

The fireside roars with laughter and Ren gently bites the food between his fingers with mirthful eyes on Finn.

“What is it? What is it?!”

CL grins. “It’s from the Auwev, right?”

Finn holds it up to his face. “Yeah?  _ So?” _

“It’s a fertility necklace.”

Finn can’t help but repeat himself, agitated. “Again – SO?”

CL nods to the artifact. “It’s made from male pubic hair. The tufts. You should probably stop petting it so much.”

…

…

... And all of a sudden, Finn would rather be known as Trash Man. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter made me laugh.


	18. The Time Before

  
  


Art by [Dave Rapoza](https://daverapoza.carbonmade.com/)

_________________

Finn is doing ‘Finn things’, Kylo notes. He’s chatting with the other troopers – getting laughs, smiles, pats on the back. It’s a level of camaraderie that the Jedi Killer could never lower himself to. Even thinking about it logically, relationships like that would have only served to undermine his authority and make him seem too approachable. Less of an icon and more… human.

The mask he wore was  _ not  _ made to make him seem more  _ human. _ Humans could be beaten.

Kylo Ren could not.

He throws a bit of stick into the dying fire as he and CL-3337 sit in a relatively quiet peace, watching the others.

“It’s hard for me, sometimes.”

Kylo arches one brow and turns his head to the side. The older trooper has his arms behind him, propping himself up as he slightly leans back, stretching himself. Something pops, and he lets out a satisfied grunt before gesturing at the others.

“Fitting in. Being on their level,” the trooper gruffs out. “It’s like they speak a language I never learned. My world is about command. Respect. There’s little room for… that.” He flips his hand in the direction of Finn’s necklace being tossed in ‘keep-away’ style. To his credit, Finn wasn’t chasing. No - he was just standing in the middle with his hands on his hips and a petulant look on his face.

Kylo senses that this monologue is a probe. It’s mostly a lie, as this man is good with people. The trooper is sizing him up. Likely trying to match ranks with him, to see who comes out on top. A thinly veiled pissing contest.

Kylo decides not to play.

CL-3337 tries another tactic. “How old were you when you came into the Order?”

Kylo muses, picking up another fleck of wood and rolling it between his fingers, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my twenties.”

The trooper huffs, “That’s  _ late.  _ I didn’t know anyone was taken that late. Or… were you  _ actually  _ recruited?” Again, probing.

Kylo remains silent.

Another tactic whirs into the trooper’s thoughts. Kylo snags the phrase, ‘Give some to Get some’ from CL’s mind. An interrogation technique.

“The ‘youth-recruiters’ came for my region when I was eleven or so. My family was crazy with panic. Doing everything they could to try to save my sister and I. You know – like every other family in the area.” CL tips his chin to the sky, squinting at the sun a bit.

“When we heard them hitting the other houses, it was early morning. No one was expecting them. My parents shoved me and my sister inside their bedroom and barricaded the doors,” he scoffs, “like  _ that  _ was gonna do anything.

“My sister was tiny. Only five… maybe six months old. I held her in my arms in the dark, and honestly, I had no clue what to do with her. All I knew was that it was my job to protect her. I was the Big Brother, y’know?”

Kylo had no siblings, so – no, he didn’t know.

“She was sleeping – so I just  _ tucked  _ her under the bed. Then, I scooted myself into a closet. But, I thought I was  _ so  _ smart, I left the door open. Just a crack. I knew they’d get in the room – so I wanted to make it easy for them to find me… so they’d leave  _ her.” _

The trooper faces the ground now, sardonically grinning. “I was a stupid kid.” He kicks at something between his feet, scuffing at the dirt. “When they pounded in the door, my parents started carryin’ on. Screaming and fussing and, well… it woke my sister. Then, she started  _ bawling.” _

He pauses again, turning to look Kylo right in the eyes. “And they heard her. When they slammed the door open, it pinned me in the closet… so they snagged her instead and left me behind.

“I wasn’t until the next wave a year later.”

Kylo looks at the man somberly. He can tell that the trooper has told the story so many times that he barely feels it anymore... but Kylo feels it. He drops his head a bit - but continues to say nothing. Finally, CL sighs and Kylo feels a prickle creep up his back. His heart sinks.

“I know who you are, y’know.”

Now his eyes are on the trooper. He can’t help but narrow them as he braces for what comes next.

CL waves his hand around the camp, “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna tell any of  _ them.  _ And they wouldn’t recognize you anyway. The only reason I know is that I’ve been assigned to your details. More than a few times.”

Kylo straightens up and breathes heavy in through his nose.

“That’s why I was there when you told Ginger Snap that you wanted Clones instead of stealing the kids for the Stormtrooper program.”

Kylo’s body turns to see him better. The man’s face is… wistful. Genuine in its nostalgia.

“I’ve stood in front of you on battle lines and at your back for a couple missions, too. If I told you that you were amazing, you’d probably think I was kissing your ass. But I’ll tell you anyway,” he grins, flicking his non-regulation thin braid over his shoulder once more.

“Y’know… there were many years of my life when I was just a mask. You never knew my face. Or cared about my story.” CL’s eyes lock on Kylo’s with meaning, “But... I would have died for you.”

Kylo looks away, uncomfortable. He doesn’t like this feeling. He nearly wants to run. To get up. To do something… to  _ fight  _ something.

Instead he steeples his fingers.

“So, no – I’m not going to tell these guys who you are. But, I wanna know… when did you defect?”

Kylo nearly growls. “Who said I defected?”

CL tips his eyebrows up and looks at him with a face that silently says,  _ Seriously? _

The trooper works his mouth, choosing his words carefully. “On the Steadfast – in the hanger. That Resistance ship put off quite a whip of wind, I’ll tell you. Shot me back into the _air._ But not you. I saw your face that day. You took off your mask… for the Jedi girl.”

Now Kylo does stand, lithe and abrupt, and looks at the ex-trooper like he’s only got moments left to live.

The damn man is brave, though, so he just keeps talking. 

“After seeing that, I was positive you’d leave. I’d never seen you show your actual face outside of the Order – never heard you speak more than a sentence at a time. But, seeing you then? It seemed like you felt she was worth chasing.”

CL-3337 gestures around again to the simple barracks, where no others had even bothered to take notice of the escalating situation. “You  _ could _ just kill us all… so you don’t technically have to answer… but I’m asking anyway; when did you defect?”

Kylo clutches his hands into a fist and grits his teeth. Finn’s laughter in the distance grates on his nerves and adds a level of surrealness to this moment. He should stop this. Cut his losses. Kill this man – this village and move on.

That’s what he did when Lor San Tekka even  _ hinted  _ at who he was.

And that’s exactly what he should do right now.

Kylo takes another hissed breath in, his nostrils flaring. CL simply looks at the crowd in front of him with a sorrowful, resigned look in his eyes. The ex-trooper’s mind pulses out an apology to the others. He thinks they’re already dead – they just don’t know it yet.

“Before Kajimi,” Kylo says, surprising himself. Risking more, “The… Jedi girl… she was going to face Palpatine. I’d been working out a way to kill him… but I needed her on my side. She tried to go on her own... so I went after her.”

CL’s eyes are wide when Kylo turns back to face him. The trooper’s voice is a whisper, “You fought  _ Palpatine?” _

Kylo’s chest expands as he makes his point clear. “Yes. But  _ she  _ was the one who beat him.”

The trooper looks disappointed, “So… you didn’t defect…”

Kylo’s face is stern, “I plotted for months to kill the Dark side Emperor. So, yes. I did.”

A clanging bell breaks the conversation in half as both men turn toward the sound. CL hisses, jumping up and grabbing at his sidearm. “More bounty hunters on the way.”

Kylo’s face turns viciously towards the village gate. “Well, we should be sure to greet them properly.”

Good. Something to  _ kill. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__

__

Finn stubbornly steps in front, hands out to the side, as if trying to block his path. “To  _ what end,_ Ren? What are you going to do? Live here for the rest of your life and just  _ eliminate  _ them all?”

CL smiles sarcastically. “There are worse ways to live.”

Another trooper cocks her gun on the tower above the gate’s fencing, “There are also better ways to die.” Finn looks up at her and she shrugs, “I’m just saying…”

Ren twists to go around him, but Finn reaches out to grab his arm.

Ren  _ jerks  _ out of the way before Finn’s fingers can even graze his aura, lashing out, grabbing Finn’s wrist and pinning it up and behind his shoulder blades. It happens so fast; Finn doesn’t even understand what’s going on until the pain sets in.

He grunts and struggles, so Ren releases him quick. The soldiers all snicker behind them.

“They’re about a mile out now, guys. Coming in on foot,” watchtower girl calls down, binoculars tight against her eyes.

Finn rubs at his shoulder and cracks his neck side-to-side. “All I’m saying is that – if they have a bounty on them, it won’t stop after we kill  _ one  _ group of hunters. Or two. Or one-thousand, three-hundred and sixty-five.” He huffs, “And if _ these guys  _ have a bounty on them…”

Ren picks up the thread, “Then  _ every  _ trooper has a bounty on them.”

Finn agrees, “All over the Galaxy.”

There is a stunned silence in the camp around them.

“So – how do we call off the commission?” someone calls out.

CL, ever the optimist, retorts, “We can’t call it off. The new alliance wants us dead. Out. All over.”

Finn’s finger taps at his mouth in thought, “What if I can get them to stop paying out on the bounties?”

All eyes are on Finn now. Ren is the only one who looks anything other than dubious.

CL-3337 nearly laughs. “And how the hell would  _ you  _ be able to pull that off?”

Ren smirks, “Because…”

Finn nods. “Because I’m the Co-General of the Resistance.”

Finn can feel the wave of shock all around him – and he’s  _ loving  _ it. His grin is wide and proud.

Ren nods at him. “You comm Chewie for the Falcon. Get it closer, but don’t let the hunters see you. CL-3337 and I will hold them off.”

Finn lifts his hand to grab the shoulder-comm on his jacket, but turns to Ren at the last minute, pre-scolding him with a waggling finger and narrowed eyes. “No killing.”

The Darksider rolls his eyes.

Finn continues to back away for some privacy, but keeps that finger going. “Nope. No killing. Not a single one dead. You hear me? Be good. Stay.”

Ren’s face is murderous.

Finn figures, if he’s testing his luck today, might as well test it  _ all the way. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__

The ramp is barely down when Finn  _ launches  _ himself up it, swerving a hard right that squeaks his heels against the durasteel.

Chewie has the comm up and Poe’s face floats in front of him in blue.

“Poe!” Finn’s still exhausted. He  _ really  _ needs to rest. Sweating, he brushes the moisture off his brow and works to catch his breath.

Poe looks both amused and concerned, “Time zones, buddy, time zones.” The pilot rubs sleep out of his eyes with a yawn. “I still have a full 45 minutes to get to the Council meeting and I was planning to make the most of it.

Finn can’t help but smile before his face pins down into something more serious. “Listen, Poe – I need you to talk to the… the Council? We have a Council now?”

Poe nods with a grin. “We have a Council now.”

Finn nods back, “Right. I need you to talk to the Council about removing the bounty on ex-Stormtroopers.”

Poe’s ample eyebrows pull up, but his eyes remain half lidded as he scratches his hand behind his head. “And what makes you think they’ll actually listen to me about  _ that? _ The troopers are war criminals.”

Finn grips the panel in front of the comm, leaning down. “No. No, that’s not right.”

Poe’s scuffing hand moves to push and pull over his face now. “Enlighten me.”

“Look, when I was in the program – I didn’t have a choice. It was  _ do  _ or  _ die.” _

Poe snorts, “Yeah, well, and most of them chose  _ ‘do’.” _

Finn grimaces. “What about when they overthrew the Star Destroyers?”

The pilot’s face pauses, and he looks at Finn openly. Finn does what he does best and just keeps going.

“What about when they  _ mutinied _ after the Final Order’s command to blow up more systems?  Now, they’re not hurting anybody. They’re shuffled off into the backwaters of the universe, just trying to survive. Trying to cope.”

Poe tips his head back with a groan. “Cope with  _ what  _ exactly?”

Finn can’t help but yell, “The fact that most of them are DEAD!”

Both men look at each other and a beat passes between them. Finn takes a deep breath to center himself.

“The fact is that they were basically  _ slaves  _ – their whole lives were made to mold them into  _ cogs in a machine  _ and now that life is over. And  _ they’re  _ the ones that ended it. Because they knew what was happening was  _ wrong.  _ How about that, Poe? How about the fact that  _ any one of them  _ could have been me? Or Jannah? How about that?”

Poe is staring at him. The pilot opens his mouth, but then shuts it again. For once, Poe Dameron doesn’t have a witty comeback.

He lowers his head, shaking his curls out slightly. “I hear you, buddy. I hear you loud and clear.” He breathes in heavy and Finn can almost see his mind ticking away.

“I’ll talk to them.  _ We’ll _ talk to them.”

“We?”

“I’ll connect you to the meeting in 30 minutes. See you there, Co-General.” Poe winks before logging off and Finn sits back in the pilot’s chair in disbelief. 

Could this work? Could he really make this work?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

CL grinds the tip of his blaster deeper into the underside of the bounty hunter’s chin. “Well,  _ I’m  _ not opposed to killing every one of you, even if  _ he  _ is.”

Each hunter is on their knees, weapons confiscated and gathered in a small pile behind a wall of ex-troopers – each of them with a gun pointed directly at the hunter’s faces.

“I think we have a fair handle on the situation, either way,” Kylo purrs, staring down the rag-tag group prostrated before him. A Dark pleasure licks up his side and it makes him pull a frown.

He catches eyes with CL and falls back slightly, the trooper stepping forward to keep the pressure on while giving Kylo room to breathe.

There is a crackle of static and Chewie’s howls come in over the comm. Kylo leans into it to listen before clicking the mic trigger. “Hold on, I’ll see if they have one.”

He stalks over and starts to kick through their gear, finding what he’s looking for in short order. He grabs up the holopad and returns to the center of the standoff. “What channel?”

Chewie moans out a series of whines and Kylo starts to dial in. CL is giving him a questioning look and Kylo deadpans, “Never heard Shyriiwook before?”

Keying in the final stroke, Kylo settles down on his haunches and turns up the volume.

Poe Dameron’s image flickers above the screen and a quorum of sentients stand behind him.

“…why the Resistance and its Allies will pay out no bounty on Stormtrooper lives. This body has come to understand that they, too, are victims of this endless war. From our standpoint, we’d like the Galaxy to consider them as emancipated from slavery – because that’s what they were. Slaves to the Empire. The First Order. The Final Order. So, I repeat – we will pay  _ no bounty.  _ Protect the lives of these brave men and women who risked everything to overthrow their masters. To overtake the Star Destroyers. To save our  _ systems. _ ”

The row of lifeforms hold their stoic glares into the holocamera’s lens for long enough that Kylo knows the speech is over. He thumbs off the pad and flicks it to the dirt beside him, turning to face the bowed aliens.

His tone is sardonic. “As you can see – there’s no money to be had here.”

The hunter’s leader spits out, “Well, why don’t we kill you just for spite, then? Our whole gang is heading down this way. Do you think ten karking _troopers _ can beat all of  _ us?" _

CL flicks his gun in the leader’s direction. “We could always give it a shot, but why don’t you just be a good boy and tell them to go away?”

The creature laughs grimly, “Why don’t you  _ make  _ me?”

It twitches… something. A trigger dart spits out from a contraption masked inside the creature’s clothing and, before Kylo can think better of it, he flings his hand out…

The dart stops inches from CL’s face, milliseconds away. Kylo’s heart is in his throat as he pulls his hand back, the now-inert thing plunking down with a small thud.

All eyes are on him. Even the hunters. CL’s expression is… overwhelming.

Kylo has outed himself.

The female trooper says it so softly, it’s almost a whisper. “You can use the Force?”

Kylo curses internally. There are only three ways out, now. Kill them all. Wipe them all.

Or own it.

“I can.” He whips his face back to the hunter pack. “So when I tell you to leave, that’s exactly what you’ll do.”

The leader is terrified. He stinks of it. But he’s also prideful and ready to die. “Or what?”

Kylo’s smirk returns. His fingers rake into the air and a discarded trooper mask bolts over to hover in front of his hand. He waits. For three whole seconds, he waits.

Before he clamps his fist down and the helmet crumples with a shriek of metal.

Loosening his grip, it topples to the ground to join the holopad.

“Now imagine what that would look like for the contents inside.”

An explosion rends the distance behind him and he’s stunned for a quick moment before he sends his senses out into the ether. He can hear them; he can  _ feel  _ them. His voice is low and loud as he bellows, “SIX. THERE ARE SIX MORE.” And the blue of his mother’s saber releases.

He launches himself into a backward jump, no need to stifle himself now, and  _ rams  _ the blade up and through the chest of a newcomer.

He pushes his arm out and the kneeling hunters  _ stay kneeling. _

He feels it before he sees it. Thrusting his body forward, he dives in front of CL, lightsaber spinning fast, flinging blaster bolts to the side. CL doesn’t stop, his weapon blares while he screams, “LEFT FLANK, LEFT FLANK,” and more shots are fired.

Kylo feels Finn in the mix now, sees him in the smoke from the flash-bang explosive. Finn’s blaster is raised – and he’s shooting – but he’s missing. He’s missing  _ everything. _

Before Kylo can deal with that, he grips forward with the Force again, pulling a hunter onto his blade, swiping it out, dismembering the creature along the way.

“THREE. THREE MORE!” CL calls.

“TWO!” someone calls back.

“ONE!”

“None,” Kylo huffs, sweat trickling down as the last hunter falls. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So – it’s blue now? Your lightsaber?”

CL and Kylo heft up another hunter body and add it to the pyre’s staging area. Only two more, then they can set this thing ablaze.

He frowns. “It’s not mine.”

CL smiles and lets out a sing-song sort of sound, “The Jedi girl’s?”

Kylo’s frown becomes a scowl, giving CL a  _ look  _ before simply saying, “Not hers either.”

“Like it better than your red one?”

This man doesn’t know when to stop asking questions. Still, Kylo considers before finally admitting, “No. No I don’t.”

The last body falls with a fwump sound and both men wipe their hands off on their clothes. CL’s grin returns as he stretches his arms to the sky, “Saaaaved by the Trash Man.”

Kylo scoffs.

“And you.”

Kylo eyes the trooper for a moment. Softly, he opens his mouth and repeats the man’s sentiment back at him.

“There were many years of my life when I was just a mask. You never knew my face. Or cared about my story… but, today, I would have died for you.”

Kylo takes the man’s stunned silence as his cue to just walk away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn whines behind him, “But they’re having a party…”

“Yes, over burning dead bodies; what an uplifting event.” Ren stalks back towards the ship in a huff. “Speaking of which – you didn’t hit a single mark today.”

Finn shrugs at his blaster holder, feeling a tad shameful.

Ren’s eyes soften. “It’s because Rey’s gone, isn’t it?”

Finn’s train of thought  _ grinds  _ to a halt. His eyes go into wide circles.

Ren’s expression immediately hardens as he growls, “You didn’t  _ notice?” _

Finn holds his hand up to stop the Darksider from talking and he tips his head slightly to the right. Listening  _ inside.  _ Feeling  _ inside. _

There’s nothing… and panic runs through him like a bolt.

Ren’s face is incredulous as he rears his head back, placing his hands over his eyes. “How is that possible? How could you not NOTICE?” he bites out, stalking around Finn like an animal.

“I…” Finn falters, “Look, man… yesterday was… and today has been.” His body trembles with a shudder as Ren prowls. It only takes a moment for Finn to get his bearings before he hisses, “You  _ knew?” _

Ren nearly spits. “I knew the minute I  _ woke up. _ I assumed you would figure it out, considering she’s in  _ your  _ head!”

“And is she okay…?” Keeping priorities straight.

The Force-user’s pacing slows to a stop and he runs his hands through his hair. “I think so…”

Finn’s voice is pitchy, “You _THINK _ so?”

Ren grits out, “Yes, I THINK so. Which is more than you do.  _ Think.” _

“Says the man who thought it was a good idea to take over the GALAXY!”

Ren raises his hand in a choking motion and Finn feels the slightest pressure before it drops again. “Don’t. Don’t start, Finn.”

Finn clenches his fists and thrusts them down in front of him in an aggressive gesture. “Don’t start what? You don’t wanna have this fight? You don’t wanna discuss how it's YOUR fault we’re here in the _first place?”_

Ren’s teeth are bared, and he’s hunching down into that stance he does when he’s pissed off… when he’s  _ dangerous…  _ but the tirade has begun, and it’s going to go on for a hot minute, thank-you-very-much.

“Speaking of ‘thinking’… shouldn’t kowtowing before a mass murderer be something that requires a bit of  _ thought  _ before you do it? How about joining an organization that destroys  _ planets,  _ huh? How about  _ killing your boss _ to take his place? Oh, that was really something to puzzle over!”

Finn is nearly frothing. “How about creepy-stalking the girl you're obsessed with while simultaneously trying to obliterate all her friends along with whatever the hell is left of your own  _ family?  _ Was that well-thought out,  _ Ren?  _

“And Rey… she wouldn’t have even been a  _ part  _ of the Resistance if we didn’t go to Jakku! I’d never have met her! YOU’D never have met her. And then,  _ SHE WOULDN’T BE DEAD!” _

Finn pants and his chest heaves as he backs up, slightly. But where he dips back, Ren comes in – flicking his hair out of his eyes. 

His voice is dangerous. “You  _ done?” _

Finn’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head in fury. If he could ensure he’d see tomorrow, he’d love to punch this bastard right in the face.

“Try it and die,” Ren mocks.

“Stay. Out. Of. My. Head.”

“You know, without Rey to boost your connection to the Force – you have almost no connection at all.” Ren’s voice goes soft, but dark. “Tell me, what use are you without her?”

Finn takes another step back, his exhaustion peeking its head back into the conversation.

“More than  _ you.” _

“Care to make a bet on that?” Ren smirks, pacing around him once more. “Before we address your  _ concerns, _ I think we should discuss your  _ hypocrisy.” _

“How am I-“

“Tell me, FN-2187 – how many times did you bring your concerns about the actions of the First Order to your superior officer? Or were you too much of a coward? Afraid of… what, reconditioning? Or perhaps you were just too busy  _ running away…” _

Finn flinches.

“I spoke out. I spoke out  _ against  _ bringing in children for the Stormtrooper program. I argued  _ against  _ Hosnia. In fact – I needed to get to Skywalker so fast, specifically so I could try to  _ prevent  _ Hosnia.”

“Well, you really succeeded there, didn’t you?”

Ren lunges towards him, their faces almost touching. The tips of Ren’s hair run over Finn’s forehead as he  _ leans  _ down, making the ex-trooper cower back.

Finn had almost forgotten how terrifying this man could be.

“Who killed Snoke, Finn? Who did it?”

Finn’s eyes are wide, “You...”

“Do you know what my orders were? From Snoke? From Palpatine?”

“I-“

“KILL THE GIRL!” Ren screams, spittle flying onto Finn’s face before letting out a strangled sound.

The Darksider backs up off him and turns away, crouching down, running his fingers through his hair and  _ pulling.  _

Finn can’t help but feel uncomfortable. It’s like he’s intruding on a private moment while this man tries not to implode.

Ren bristles, no doubt having picked up Finn’s thought trail, and slowly releases his fingers. 

He stands, voice now emotionless and cold. “And when they tried to make me do it… I went for _them,_ instead. Since I met her, I have done _nothing_ but try to protect her from them.” His eyes go to Finn. “ _I_ broke protocol. _I_ broke the chain of command. I killed my _Master_ , destroyed my entire way of life… all because I couldn’t let it happen. Because _that_ was a step I was unwilling to take.”

Ren gets back into his space again, but it’s not violent. Just strong. “I’ve never just  _ run away.” _

After a pause, Ren turns from Finn once more, starting back towards the ship. 

Finn’s voice is soft when he speaks. “But you  _ did.” _

Ren’s eyes are haughty as he looks over his shoulder. Before he can open his mouth, though, Finn continues.

“You ran away from  _ yourself. _ You ran away from ‘Kylo Ren’.” Finn’s eyes are firm, but sorrowful as he realizes the truth. “Even though you knew you’d lose everything…”

Ren’s mouth is pursed, slightly. His voice is so quiet Finn can barely hear him. “...not  _ everything.” _

Ren doesn’t need one more word, because he’s just said it all. 

The sky is turning pinks and purples and they can hear the soft chirping of something local to the planet. The Falcon lay far in the distance, but the trees were sparse enough that it was still easy to see. 

The air clears between them a bit before Finn says what he’s thinking. 

“On Jakku. You knew I hadn’t fired my blaster. You knew I was going to leave.” Finn’s eyes gaze into Ren’s back. “You knew – you looked right at me.”

Still turned away from him, Ren simply nods.

“Why? Why didn’t you kill me? Report me?”

The Darksider’s eyes are on the horizon. 

“Because you were right to want to leave.” 

His boots crunch in the dirt as he continues to walk away. Before Finn can move to follow, he hears Ren shout back. 

“Go to your party. Stay the night; rest. I’ll send Chewie over, too. They’ve got meat; he’ll go.”

Finn nods, unseen, and just watches the fearsome ‘Kylo Ren’ fade into the distance.


	19. In the Abyss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic adult material of a sexual nature. If you would like to avoid this content, please skip the very first segment of this chapter.

Art by [ Ila Fox](https://www.instagram.com/ilafox/?hl=en) (With permission~)

  
  


_________________

Kylo sits, fresh from the shower, running his thumb up and down the silver metal of his lightsaber. His  _ mother’s  _ lightsaber. Useful, but still not the best tool for his style of battle. It’s too… gentle, somehow. Too quiet. Removed. Docile.

He sighs heavily and lays back, resting it on the med-shelf behind his cot. He glances at the unmoving Rey and dares not touch on the chasm of fear inside him. The fear that she might not return. He steels himself in the belief that the Jedi Masters wouldn’t let that happen. After all, they’ve already done  _ this  _ much – why give up now?

At the mention of a celebration, the Wookie had happily gone off. He supposes that people like them… like Chewie, like Finn… must miss being among people. Whereas he was thankful to finally be  _ alone. _

Chewbacca had given him a solid life-threat before leaving. Something along the lines of: ‘Move this ship and die,’ et cetera. He smirks to himself, feeling mischievous, but lets the sentiment pass.

Seconds flow by into minutes as Kylo stares at the ceiling, seeing nothing. It’s not meditation, more like… static. There, but not there. That’s how he feels right now.

He grips his hair one more time and rolls on his side to face her. As beautiful as she is while still, he wants to see her moving again. Furious, tentative, sad, sarcastic, laughing… and that special look in her eyes from the night he’d kissed her in his dreams.

In  _ their  _ dreams.

He closes his eyes and remembers the softness of her mouth. The tang of salt on her skin. The feeling of grazing his teeth over her throat. His fingers over her pulse. Her tongue over his.

His body… reacts. Like a  _ child. _ He sits up and bathes in self-loathing. He refuses to succumb to that repulsive, self-gratifying habit. Biologically _ unnecessary  _ for a celibate Force user. There’s no need for this  _ disgusting  _ display by his body.

He hears Snoke’s disdain run through his mind. It echoes and echoes back to times when he was young and couldn’t _help_ it. Sometimes, it happened in his sleep and he had no control. Snoke had made him understand how revolting such actions are. Sapping away energy that could be put to other more _useful_ – more _controlled_ \- more _powerful -_ purposes.

He is flooded with humiliation. Shame.

Still, he aches. Despite the thoughts racing through his mind, behind his eyes he sees her hazel gaze and her parted mouth. His ears ring with her single word… ‘Please’.

His fingers move up to touch his lips, remembering hers. He opens his mouth gently, tentatively, and lets his fingertips graze the seam, flitting ever so briefly over the edge of his tongue.

He tamps down on the conditioned response of self-hate. He reminds himself – this is normal for his entire species. This is what males of his race _do._ He wants to be with her. Wants every tiny piece she offers. If she will let him, he will gladly take her.

His thoughts drift back again to that look in her eyes, and believes that she _would_ let him. He leans backwards, once more.

He wonders what it would feel like if her hands were on him. If he were to succumb to  _ her  _ desires instead of the other way around? Submit to her whims. 

He knows he’d do it. If she willed it, he would move the stars.

Her hands are so much smaller than his, but he pretends as he closes his eyes and runs his palm through his hair, over the swell of his throat, fingers flicking after they pass the divot in the center of his collarbone.

He pictures her standing in front of him, staring up with half-lidded eyes, as she plucks the buttons of his shirt, opening the fabric to feel his bare skin. He does what he imagines, letting the cool air of the ship lick over him, prickling his flesh in goosebumps. 

He pretends that his fingers are hers as they glide over him – down his chest, over the line of his abs that runs straight down to his navel. He goes slow. Painfully slow. He pretends she might tease him, or just take a moment to look at him. Take him in.

His fingers pet the button on his pants with uncertainty as he calls to mind images that had yet to happen. Things he  _ wants  _ to do… but hasn’t yet. Like cupping the soft swells of her chest in his hand. Kissing them. Mouthing them. Hearing the hisses of her breath heavy in his ear as her fingernails work their way over his scalp.

The firm stretch against his pants is uncomfortable, so his fingers pluck at the fastener. With each upward pull, the fabric rubs over him. He drags his lip between his teeth to stifle a sigh.

What if she were to kiss her way down his body? That wet, hot mouth licking circles down him. What if she were to take her heated breath and exhale it right above him  _ there.  _ Right where that pulsing ache is. His hips roll instinctively, and he finds himself grinding against his own palm, his mouth opening in a soundless gasp. 

He covers his breath with one hand to silence his shame before he reminds himself…  _ You’re not the one that’s touching you. -She’s- the one that’s touching you. _

He finds he can convince himself of anything while in this state.

He rocks his hips up, pressing on the cot with his heels as he fingers his buttons open and languidly rolls all clothing down and off his body, ensuring that he feels every rigid muscle.

He refuses to open his eyes. To do so would break the spell.

He imagines her fingers delicately swiping at the places no one touches – like the soft insides of his pale, white thighs, and tipping that caress up to the most silken part of him. It’s blazing hot and so hard he can feel his own heartbeat through it, even as his touch remains featherlight.

But, no – that wouldn’t be Rey. Rey was straightforward. Rey always took control.

With a fast motion, he wraps his enormous hand around himself and  _ grips,  _ pumping once and crying out softly. The hand over his mouth slides a knuckle inside, and he pretends it’s her tongue.

His nerve endings are on  _ fire. _

His fist pumps slowly and his shuttered eyes clench tightly, his tongue laving over the underside of his finger – his teeth leaving marks in his skin.

It’s not about Rey anymore. It’s about this  _ feeling.  _ This crescendo building inside him. His rhythm picks up. Strokes  _ harder,  _ pumps  _ faster  _ as he grips the flesh between his teeth and  _ grunts. _

Through his harsh breaths, his mind chants her name like a prayer. Over and over, in time with his beating hand.

It’s so much. He’s almost there – but he doesn’t know where  _ there  _ is… just that he’s coming.

And coming…

_ And coming. _

He sucks in a gasp as his body spasms and his hips rock into his fist. He doesn’t want to stop… he wants this again. Over and Over.  _ Always. _

But suddenly everything is too much, too sensitive, too overwhelming.

Exhausting.

He’s so _ tired _ …

Kylo doesn’t move a muscle. He just crashes – down and down and down into a heavy wave of sleep.

There is no shame in sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Finn sits in the flickering firelight, his friend is purring nonsense at him. He still hasn’t quite grasped the language enough to understand what in God’s name he’s saying... but doesn’t let it sour his mood.

“Go home, Chewie, you’re drunk,” he grins. Did someone say that to him once before?

Either way, the Wookie bats at him good naturedly as CL huffs a laugh at his side. “If only we had alcohol, kid. We barely have  _ anything. _ Never mind a nice stiff drink.”

Finn basks in the sounds of celebration around him. “I think I’m good without one.”

CL casts his eyes in Finn’s direction. “Feeling your oats, Trash Man?”

He rolls his eyes but nods anyway.

“Good. You deserve it. We - and I mean the  _ collective  _ we, across the Galaxy - we all owe you an enormous debt. I gotta ask though… how did an ex-trooper… a  _ ‘Sanitation Worker’ _ … end up a General of the Resistance?”

Chewie moans something akin to, ‘There were no other choices,’ and Finn shoots him a look before deciding to pull-a-Ren and not answer.

CL sighs, “You people and your buttoned lips, I swear.” His tips a canteen up before passing it in Finn’s direction. “So…” he probes, “How long have you and RN known each other?”

Finn has no sense of the man’s ulterior motives for the line of questioning, and fails to realize two things: 

1) That CL-3337 knows ‘RN’ is ‘Kylo Ren’ and... 

2) He wants to know if  _ Finn _ knows it, too.

Without knowing this, he keeps his answer vague, “Since I was on the Finalizer.”

“Do you like him?”

Chewie grunts a non-answer.

Finn would have had an opinion before. A pretty goddamned  _ strong  _ opinion. Now, he just tips the canteen to his lips retorting, “He’s kind of a bastard.”

Both CL and Chewie laugh in amusement and Finn feels a clap on his back as he stifles a small smile. He hands the drink back, “I dunno. He’s got his uses, at least.”

CL nods, delight dancing over his face. “At least. He snagged you pretty good, though, huh?”

Finn’s eyebrows arch. “Huh? When?”

CL’s grin is mocking. “When he rammed your hand behind your back and launched it up between your shoulder blades. That was one quick-and-slick move.”

Right. That. Finn shrugs his arms again and cricks his neck for good measure. “Like I said – kind of a bastard.”

“Nah, you were going to grab at him. He probably doesn’t like to be touched, is all.”

Chewie moans his consent and CL just stares at him like he has six heads. “Is that thing talking shit about me?”

Chewie gargles a laugh and Finn shakes his head with a grin. He’d almost forgotten that the First Order was strictly human. Diversity and Inclusion was ‘not on the docket from executive management', as Poe would say. 

Catching CL’s comment, Finn questions, “What do you mean, ‘he doesn’t like to be touched’? He touches me, like,  _ all the time.  _ He’s constantly shoving me or grabbing me…” Finn’s tone gets a bit irritated as he actually works out all the ways Ren has bad-touched him.

“Touching  isn’t the problem, kid. It’s  _ being  _ touched. Touching implies control. You choose to touch something.  _ Being touched _ … well, that’s a whole ‘nother thing. It takes an intense amount of trust.”

Finn scoffs. “I don’t get that.”

CL’s face holds a grim humor. “That’s because you’ve likely lived a better life than him.”

Chewie is silent as Finn’s sarcastic side sticks out. “Yeah? How do you figure?”

“When you hate being touched – it’s usually because every time you  _ got  _ touched, it  _ hurt." _ CL pokes a stick into the ground with finality. “Your body learns the lesson after a while.”

Chewie lets out a mournful growl.

Finn mulls that over, keeping his eyes on the fire. 

He looks at the tent he and Chewie are sharing tonight and then over at the gathered crowd. Even though there’s no music, the female trooper dances with that scrawny guy who can never take his eyes off her. The heavyset one roasts more meat over the fire beside them, and strikes at the fingers of people who try to snatch a piece away before it’s done. The one who knew about the ‘shitty, shitty armor’ is laughing with a raven-haired man over inside jokes that no one will ever understand but them.

He hears call signs ring out like names, because that’s what they are.

He takes a moment to feel the weight of the fact that, under the masks – they were all just people. They were  _ always  _ just people. 

And now these people are free.

He wishes he could tell Rey.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo stands with his leg slightly raised on the slanted platform that lays haphazardly cracked into angles beneath his feet. The sky is gray with clouds and the sea spray drenches him.

He stares out into the vast ocean of violent waves and feels a tug. A pulse. A whisper. A cry.

“I hear you. I’m coming to find you…” he whispers, his voice harsh and trembling. 

“Wait for me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo’s eyes shoot open and he immediately works to level out his breathing. His dream remains vivid in his mind, like a stroke of lightning that you can still see a shadow of, even after it’s gone.

His saber. He was dreaming about his saber. His eyes close once more and he opens himself to the Force, measuring his breaths and threading his consciousness through the Galaxy.

He plucks at strands of awareness: Finn and Chewie asleep in a camp of strangers, the banker with her nicely-functioning programming still in place... planets, systems, stars…

Until he finds it. The hilt is still there in the ocean, and his kyber is calling for him, its Force signature nearly muted with the distance. He feels an ache at the connection; a familiarity and a sense of belonging. It’s still his. Still broken, but forever his…

…and he wants it  _ back. _

His eyes open, and he knows exactly where they’re going next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chewie chirps out his disagreement, and Finn is completely onboard. “Look, I know you think this is a good idea – but he’s never going to go for it.”

CL-3337 flashes a cocky grin on his face. “You might be surprised.”

“Surprised how?”

“I can be pretty persuasive.”

Finn snorts, “No one’s  _ that  _ persuasive.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? Got you to let me tag along.”

That he did. Finn swipes a bit of barbed-twig out of the way as they tromp through the underbrush and closer to the Falcon. He’d gotten to sleep in and felt worlds better for it. He can only pray that, wherever she is, Rey is feeling the same. 

Now that he’s rested, he doesn’t understand how he could have missed the fact that she was gone. It’s like there’s a hole in his mind. His heart. It’s only been a few weeks, but it’s like she’s weaved herself into him. What he wouldn’t give for one of her (admittedly annoying) little  _ tugs  _ to get his attention.

The Wookie grumbles about there only being a few more spare bunks in the ship and CL whips around again. “Will you get that thing to stop talking shit about me?”

Finn laughs. If this guy can convince Ren, at least it’d be nice to have some company again. Some real company. Not like… Darkside company.

Or Shyriiwook company.

Or… dead person company.

Finn frowns.

It doesn’t matter. There’s no way CL will convince Ren. Ren’s got a secret to keep, and the fewer people in this Galaxy know who he  _ really  _ is, the better. 

It is too bad, though.

The ramp is lowering before they’re even all the way there and, speak of the devil, Ren is tromping down wearing his new-and-improved beige best. Finn admits he looks better in black. This was just… unfortunate. Someone should really go shopping with him next time.

CL steps up before Ren can say anything and just holds his hand out, palm up. The Darksider looks at it and then back up at the ex-trooper with an unreadable expression.

Finn wonders how exactly this is going to work out. Will Ren just walk away? Likely. Yell? There was always potential for that.

Instead, wordlessly, Ren’s hand reaches out and clasps around CL’s forearm, the other man’s fingers encircling Ren’s in return. There’s a nod between them, and CL winks at Finn…

Before climbing right into the goddamned ship. 

Finn’s mouth couldn’t drop open any wider. Chewie looks to the sky with a groan.

Ren just links his hands behind his back, giving the simple command, “Let’s move out.”

As he turns on his heel, Chewie follows, shaking his fist in the air with a cry like, ‘You have no right…” but Finn is frozen to the spot, mouth about ready to catch flies.

_ What the hell just happened? _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


“Don’t crash it this time.”

Finn hisses, “What do you mean,  _ ‘Don’t crash it this time’?” _

Ren leans over his shoulder and is all up in his personal space as he and Chewie work to navigate the ship on-planet. They’ve just cut through the atmosphere and are homing in on their previous location.

Chewie howls something akin to, ‘You did WHAT?’ and Finn grimaces, flicking the required sequence of buttons. At least he was getting better at this part.

“You weren’t even there, Ren.”

“Was.”

“Where?”

“On the wreckage already.”

“Why?”

“Waiting for Rey.”

“How?”

“My ship.”

CL cuts in, massaging his fingers into his eyebrows, eyes squinted shut. “Y’know, kids, if this is what conversations between the two of you are like, I’m going to need some serious help with my patience skills.”

Chewie is still yowling, ‘YOU DID WHAT?’ and Finn just _ cannot _ deal with this right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The waves are just as cold and as miserable as he remembers, and he shivers under his clothing.

Still, he hears that singing beneath the waves and knows this was the right next move. He thinks about the moment he’d launched his only possession as far away from himself as possible. He also thinks about his father. Alone on the edge of the derelict, he looks over his shoulder to where he last saw him. 

Real? Or a memory? He’ll never know; not really.

Out loud, he speaks to himself, “Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t want to be…  _ that  _ again. I don’t want to throw away your sacrifice. Or hers. I just… I  _ need  _ this.”

“I never did understand all that Force stuff.”

Kylo whips around to see his aged father standing, just as he had before. He’s dry even though everything else around him is anything but.

“To me, a blaster was a blaster. I didn’t have favorites, so long as it  _ worked.” _

Kylo pauses, his mind in a loop,  _ RealNotRealRealNotReal. _

Han Solo smirks his trademark smile, which Kylo had inherited directly, and stares into his son’s eyes. “This won’t be taking back your word, kid. This isn’t something you need to apologize for. This is something you need... that’s all. No more, no less.”

Kylo’s breath catches as he flicks his head to the storming water. A fresh gust of  _ frigid  _ rains down on him, and he closes his eyes to the sting.

When he turns around again, his father is gone.

And so is any feeling of doubt.

Kylo’s arm raises as he  _ feels  _ around, his eyes cast down at the fathomless depths below him. He can feel it. It’s down there. All it needs is a little pull. So Kylo pulls…

But it doesn’t come any closer.

A big pull, then. He gestures out with both hands, doubling down on his efforts. The water beneath him begins to roil beyond the raging of the tide. He hears a strange, echoing whooping sound from below. He’s pulling and  _ pulling…  _ his teeth grit slightly and he lets out a small grunt of effort.

Pull, pull... _ pull _ .

The waves part with a deafening sound as a beast of mythical proportions explodes from the ocean’s surface and Kylo’s concentration breaks, slamming it back down to the deluge of water with a heavy _pound._

The shock on his face turns to understanding before the creature is all the way beneath the tide.

_ It’s inside. _

Kylo wastes no time and grasps onto the unknown creature again, hauling it above the waves with one hand and digging through for his saber’s Force signature with the other.

_ Where is it?  _ His mind pulses.  _ Where? _

There.

The beast is churning its body with hollow cries, it’s rigid tail skating back and forth over the water, gushing heavy waves over Kylo who holds himself rock-steady. His hand is tense and aching as he holds up the beast while his other hand  _ digs. _

The screech is deafening, and it reverberates off the sea. Kylo winces and almost lets go – but catches himself at the last minute.

It hurts. He’s hurting it… damn.

He concentrates in a different way. Focusing not only on location… but  _ path.  _ How can this work? How can he get this out? His mind probes and probes, seeing without seeing.

Understanding dawns…

The saber is shallow in one of its throats. If he can get its mouth open, then this will be all over. No harm done.

He grits his teeth once more and switches gears. Instead of feeling for things, he goes back to feeling for  _ thoughts.  _ The animal does have them. Incoherent and simple – but they’re there alongside its emotions. Intense and overwhelming emotions.  _ Fear. Panic. Terror. Anger. _

Kylo lets those feelings fall into his body. He takes them, absorbs them, and feeds back a sense of calm.  _ Peace. Tranquility. _

The animal slowly begins to still, thrashing quieting, water cascading from it in sheets.

Now, communication. This was trickier. He tried to frame his intent in pictures. Broad brush strokes. Something this thing might understand.

He hits a proverbial wall. It seems it doesn’t see with its eyes the way most sentients do… but it does  _ feel.  _ Kylo tries to push forward the sensation of what he’s asking for, instead. The unhinging of the beast’s jaw.

It’s working.

With another resonant cry, the beast releases its clenched teeth and Kylo’s other hand shoots out once more.

When the hilt hits his palm with a heavy thwack, his chest surges with a feeling of  _ completion. _

With a breath, he releases the creature back into the depths, its tail cutting through the current as it angles its body back down to where it came from with another resonant sound. 

No harm done.

Kylo nearly falls, blood rushing to his head. Hands on his knees, he steadies himself and takes a breath.

His hand clenches over his saber and a thrill fills him. When it triggers, the familiar red beam screams out, crackling, as his side vents ignite.

_ Mine. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he approaches the shoreline, waterlogged, the others meet him with wide eyes.

Finn’s voice is breathy with awe as he points at the churning sea, “What did you just  _ do?” _

Kylo stalks past them without looking back, flicking the water from his eyes as he deadpans. “I went  _ fishing.” _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn sits beside Ren, legs folded beneath him, his arms on his thighs, palms up, and eyes closed. He can barely feel anything, but he works to center himself – just as Rey taught him. He feels stunted and cut off from the Force. Especially in comparison to how he’d felt before she went away. 

Rather than any power flowing from him, he seems to just be overwhelmed by the feeling of Ren, who’d suggested that they meditate immediately as soon as they got onboard.

CL and Chewie sit in the common area, watching them. They’re passing back and forth a snack of some kind and are just staring. Finn is distracted; what about sitting on the ground could be  _ that  _ fascinating?

But then he peeks open his eyes.

Ren is  _ floating.  _ His face is tranquil, and items float around him, patterned in a fluxing circle. His hands wrap over his retrieved lightsaber and Finn can feel his power rolling over him like a soft, ever-flowing river. In a gentle wave, the feeling begins to crescendo. 

It isn’t angry, or hateful, or sad. It’s… wholesome. Nostalgic. Finn’s mind is flooded with every good memory he’s ever had. Every time he’s laughed, been proud, been cared for. He feels awash with… goodness. Light. 

A small, but unwavering Light.

Now he understands why they have an audience. It lasts and lasts, until Finn’s has felt the best moments of his entire life pass before his eyes. He can only wonder what the others are seeing right now.

Without a word, Ren drifts slowly to the ground and all objects settle back around him in a gentle way. He ignores them as he opens his eyes and the calming wave recedes back inside himself, releasing Finn from his trance.

Ren stands and gently bounces the hilt in his palm, eyebrows knit and unsure. He takes a few deep breaths and widens his stance. When he finally thumbs the trigger, the unstable blade blares out like Finn remembers… but it’s not red.

It’s amethyst.

He feels it, then. That  _ tug. _

Finn eyes well with tears, his body filling back up with  _ her.  _ It’s like he sees a blue thread winding around the parts that are  _ him _ and  _ her _ , binding them back together. 

Finn breathes out in unfathomable relief. “Rey...”


	20. Becoming a Hero

Art by [ Daria Konnova](https://dariakonnova.tumblr.com/) (With Permission~)

  
  


_________________

His hand hovers under it and a firm feeling of satisfaction rolls through him. He can’t deny his…  _ passion _ … about it – but he tries to center himself in the Light. Either way, he’s done it.

He’s recorded a blue Holocron.

It hovers in his hand, lifted on the Force itself, housing another bit of the precious knowledge that Kylo has to offer. Communicating without words via the Force – pushing out a feeling of one’s _ physical intent  _ to ensure cooperation with another lifeform.

And the process of healing a Kyber crystal.

He lifts up onto his haunches in his hidden place, getting ready to place this newest addition next to his red, Sith Holocron. Regardless of which side of the Force he’d used, these were  _ his _ now. This is what he’s discovered; what can be passed on into the future. Even if no one knows his name – even if he’s some faceless Force user in these records, they are still  _ proof _ . Proof that he had lived.

That he and Rey had  _ both  _ lived.

As if he’d summoned her, he feels exhaustion draw on him. He’s not falling asleep and joining her in a dream – no, she’s  _ pulling  _ him down to her. Just like she had after Yama’s temple, when they’d come together in  _ his _ mind...

... and she’d learned of the horrors of the Red Water of Dathomir. 

Fear spikes, despite the lethargy dragging him down. She’s been gone – for  _ days _ she’s been gone – so he wants to see her… but, if she pulls him, what if she pulls into his mind again? What will she witness, this time? 

His last coherent thought is,  _ Please… whatever it is… I don’t want her to see... _

__

~~~~~~~

He’s confused, and maybe a little woozy. His head lolls a tiny bit to the side before he steadies himself, eyes focusing on the blue shapelessness in front of him.

An angelfish floats by in the most graceful of gestures. Black and white stripes flicking a glint from the artificial light as he steps back and takes in the whole tank. He remembers this place – his mother had brought him here.

“Now, sweetheart…” he hears behind him. His heart freezes in his chest. He refuses to turn around, but can see her reflection, foggy in the tempered glass. She’s leaning down to a young boy… a young  _ him _ … to pet his hair; he remembers with deep fondness how she  _ always  _ used to pet his hair.

“That’s it, be good for me. Stay here – it’s beautiful here. I’ll be back in a few hours. Honestly, the meeting  _ may  _ run long – but I’ll try my very best.” He watches that reflection stand straight, and he clenches his jaw.

_ Not again – mama, please don’t leave me here again. _

But she goes, just like always. 

He remembers this day. He vividly remembers this day. The horror, the sadness, the shame, the fear. And, somewhere, Rey is here to witness it all – just like she had in his dream of the savage planet of red and red and  _ blood. _

She  _ must _ be here – but he’s too afraid to turn and look.

The little boy in the glass’ reflection stares after his mother, trying to hold it together – but this place is so  _ big  _ and he’s only seven and, and, and. All the feelings well up in Kylo’s heart again.

_ Please don’t let it happen. _

But it will…

Not moving from the reflection, he watches the small version of himself move over to a bench and sit down, staring at the wonders all around him. He remembers thinking that it might not be that bad here. That he’d look at the beautiful fish in their enormous floor-to-ceiling tanks, read their exotic names, learn their scientific facts and – just wait. 

Little Ben Solo always tried  _ so very hard  _ to be good at waiting.

Kylo bristles but stifles his panic, fading into a firmly detached state. This already happened. This already  _ all  _ happened. There’s nothing he can do now – nothing to change it, nothing to make it better.

In the reflection, the pale tall man comes to sit next to the child-version of him. Kylo hears that silken voice ask the boy if he is alone. The child-him refuses to talk – knowing better than to speak to strangers, so Kylo watches coldly as the little-him starts to rise and walk away… until the man  _ snatches  _ him.

Little Ben Solo struggles and struggles and _struggles –_ but he doesn’t scream – because he is a brave boy and strong and a pilot and a Force user and the voice in his head _roars_.

Kylo recounts what will happen next like it’s a checklist. The man will try to take him – so little Ben Solo will listen to that voice in his head; he’ll decide  _ not to hold back. _ Little Ben Solo will let out a wave through the Force so strong that it will shatter this man’s ribs in through his lungs…

… and crack through a tank’s tempered glass.

The deluge will fall upon the unsuspecting crowd like a curtain of death, and little Ben Solo will almost drown. The creatures inside the tank, once so beautiful and filled with life, will now suffocate – gasping in the air with their feathered gills plastered shut with the damp. He clearly remembers coughing up water on the ground while looking into the eyes of one of these dying creatures and filling with such sadness.

The aquarium management will never know what happened. They’ll think that a tank had simply broken in a tragic accident… but he’ll know better.

And so will his mother.

She’ll never even bother to ask  _ why _ – she’ll just start dragging him until they’re out of the public eye. That’s when the  _ yelling  _ will start. Snoke, always and forever in his mind, will remind him that they’ll never believe in him. That they’ll never  _ really _ care about him. 

So he will never tell her about the frightening man who had tried to steal him away.

But none of that has happened yet in this memory-dream. Kylo is still here, in front of the tank that he knows will soon shatter, waiting to asphyxiate under a pummel of saltwater. All the while the pale man targets little Ben Solo. Kylo feels dead inside – even knowing it’s going to happen at any moment.

The pale man clamps down hard onto the reflection of his childhood self, and Kylo can see his lecherous grin. He can only guess as to what might have befallen him had he not lashed out.  _ Saved himself. _ Because no one else ever would.

Little Ben Solo struggles.

“Aren’t you all alone, little one?”

Kylo is cold. Numb. 

He watches the reflection whip out its other arm like a snake and slither it over little Ben Solo’s waist in a tight clamp,.

_ Here it comes. _ Kylo braces himself.

“Oi!”

Kylo’s eyes open wide and his head snaps around, finally seeing his childhood self with his own eyes.

Little Ben Solo is writhing, and a familiar woman comes from nowhere and  _ slams  _ a staff down onto the pale man’s arm. Kylo hears the  _ crack  _ and a deep seeded part of himself blooms with a long-dead hope.

_ Please, Rey. _

She grabs that broken arm, whips it behind the man’s back and wrenches him down into a crouching position.

_ Please save me. _

The pale man lets out a high-pitched cry, and Little Ben Solo breaks free, backing up against the heavy glass, nursing a bruised wrist.

Rey rains down terror upon this man. Blow after blow after blow, and he goes to his knees. Then his side. Then he curls up and  _ begs. _

But Rey does not stop – not until some phantom dream person pulls her off the man, but even then, she’s still screaming incoherently, frothing and  _ lunging. _ Once they finally back her off, the wounded and mewling man is grabbed and hauled away. 

Rey is stunning – flushed as her chest heaves in harsh breaths. She swipes at her face with the back of her hand to wipe off some of the sweat and spittle from her attack and screaming rage.

Kylo wants to approach – but he dares not. Rey doesn’t see him – not  _ him.  _ But she does see little Ben Solo.

Rey stares, catching her breath before she goes down on one knee in front of the little boy clutching his arm against himself in fear. She holds out her hands with her palms facing him, her accent lilting, “Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay – he’s gone now. The bad man is gone. He will never,  _ never  _ come for you again. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll  _ protect  _ you.”

It’s then that Rey reaches her hand out slowly – so slowly, giving little Ben Solo every chance to pull away – and pushes her fingertips through that raven hair, smiling at him. Softly. With tenderness... and love. 

Something cracks inside of that proud little boy, and he  _ rushes  _ into her arms, letting the tears flow freely. The child sobs into Rey without fear of humiliation. Of repercussion. Of abandonment. Someone is here for him – someone is finally  _ here. _

Kylo’s own eyes flood and his face crumbles, his chin trembling as he puts his hands to his face, covering his eyes. He cries along with the boy, his body shivering in heavy sobs.

Suddenly, he feels her arms around him. It’s so warm –  _ she’s _ so warm. He opens his eyes, and he’s so small. He is little Ben Solo now, and he pulls back to stare up into Rey’s face like she’s a Goddess.

Those wonderful fingers rake through his hair again, and her eyes are brimming with tears. One large one rolls down her cheek as she holds his small face gently and quietly whispers, “I see you, Ben. I see you now.”

He’s a man again in her arms, but that doesn’t stop his sobs. She holds him so tightly that he thinks he might break, but he will never ask her to let him go. He engulfs her with his large frame, but somehow she manages to start rocking him, back and forth, back and forth.

“It’s okay… shh… it’s okay. I’ve got you, Ben...

“...I’ve got you.”

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“Put this on.”

“I absolutely refuse to _ ‘put this on’. _ ”

Finn struggles with the fabric overflowing his arms as he heatedly kicks what fell on the ground back in Ren’s direction. The changing stall is narrow and long and Finn wants to be as far as possible from the area before this man starts to  _ strip. _

“Well, because  _ someone  _ outed themselves as a Force user, now we’ve got a little  _ problem  _ on our hands.”

The ‘problem’ was that the Stormtroopers they’d left behind had shared glowing stories about how they’d been saved by a General of the Resistance and a  _ Jedi Master. _ They had shared it nowhere special, you know - only on the HOLO NEWS.

Thankfully, it was just as vague as that - but… well… the news spread. Then, rumors did… well, what rumors do, and little _ additions _ and  _ exaggerations _ started being tacked on. It’s only a matter of time until this catches up to them and bites them. 

Better to get ahead of it while they can.

Finn clamps his teeth down on a wire hanger to hold it steady while he eyeballs a few other garments locked in his grip. “If yer ghunna prutnd ta be a Jehdi – ya gotta lhook like one.”

If – well,  _ when _ they get found out, Ren needs to be as different from  _ Kylo  _ Ren as Finn can make him. Being a ‘Jedi Master in the Light side of the Force doing good around the galaxy’ is a definite way to create an alibi – which is exactly why they’re here.

Ren needs to have a solid fake reputation built up before Poe finds out what’s going on.

Finn has been making daily calls into the Council to record testimonials of his time as a Stormtrooper, his opinion on their status in the Galactic Community, and he’s even started to sketch out a small plan in his mind. He’d love to tell the council his ‘Reintegration Program’… once it’s, you know, fully baked.

Finn tosses some blandly dark brown robe-ish thing at Ren, and the man catches it with obvious distaste.

“Jedi robes are ridiculous. They used to have to  _ remove layers  _ to fight. Literally  _ stop  _ in the middle of a conflict to do it. An ill-advised wardrobe choice.” Ren shakes his head in incredulity, holding the cloth up to the dim interior light as he stretches it. “This thing isn’t even steel thread.”

Finn takes the hanger from between his teeth and goes for the long shot. It’ll never work – but he  _ needs  _ cooperation. He catches Ren’s attention, sighs, and stares at him seriously, pausing for effect. “Rey says she  _ wants  _ to see you wear it.”

Finn holds the stare and does his best acting yet.

Ren’s eyebrows go up and he snorts. “Nice try.”

“It was worth a shot.” Finn feel’s Rey’s irritated  _ tug. _

He hears a solid,  _ Don’t bring me into this,  _ call out from Rey’s place in his mind.

The grin that blooms on Ren’s face is sly as he holds the fabric up again. “Do you think she wants to see me naked?” He turns his head to face Finn with a face that looks devilishly charming. “I do need to get changed.”

Rey’s heart stutters in Finn’s chest, and a modest blush rolls up his cheeks.

Here we go. Now,  _ this  _ was something he Did. Not. Miss.

Finn cries out an “UGH!” as he tosses the whole armful-of-wardrobe at the Darksider before storming out of the small side shop.

This trading post is fairly populated; lots of tourists, natives, hunters and transporters are milling around the outer market under the yellowish sky. Banners of all colors fly to mark certain shops, and the breeze that flows through is just enough to keep it nice. Trees line the edges of the main alley with tiny blue flowers.

_ It’s beautiful here,  _ Rey whispers inside him.

Finn’s smile is genuine as he agrees with her. He practices his new trick by holding his comm up to his ear and talking to her. This way, he doesn’t look like a crazy person.

“It smells good, too - there's some sort of food being roasted over there. I think it’s a spice – I remember something like it from Yama’s temple.”

_ Oh, what I would have -given- to have eaten that meal with you. _

“Well, the sooner you come back, the sooner we can take you out to a nice dinner.”

He feels a swelling of her excited anticipation run through him. The farther he got from Ren, the less he could hear her in full sentences, but he always caught her drift.

It’s been a few days since she’s come back, but he feels more whole as every day goes by. That new, blue thread, binding them so tightly. Who would have thought he could miss something so  _ much?  _ Even if it did have its… inconveniences. Like the fact that he couldn’t talk to her in front of CL.

He mills around a bit, aimlessly, picking through booths to waste time, all with his comm to his ear. She might not be able to speak back well at this distance, but she could listen, so he caught her up.

“…I can’t believe Ren let the guy on the ship, honestly. I’ve steered him  _ sooo  _ clear of the med-bay, but I have no idea what will happen once he finds you. If I could pinpoint a moment for Ren to go berserk, it would be that.”

He feels a twinge of humor and self-deprecation and understands that  _ that _ situation is not how Rey would prefer to meet the newest member of their group, either.

“There he is now.” Finn nods over in his direction, dropping the comm and heading two stalls down.

CL is leaning over a table of weaponry with some interest, but they’re all melee weapons. Finn eyes them, but sees no use for them. If it has to be close-range, he’ll stick to Rey’s saber.

“Welcome to a First Order world, Trash Man.”

“Can we call me something else? Like – seriously, anything else?”

The ex-trooper only grins as his fingers slide down a particularly nice looking reverse-grip blade.

Finn continues, “Besides, there’s no First Order anymore. So this world is… whatever it wants to be, now.”

Rey muses,  _ What do you think it will want to be? _

Finn almost answers her but remembers he’s in mixed company.

If he heard her this clearly, Ren must be nearby again. Finn tips his body backwards into the market’s alleyway to see Ren approach while looking – pretty annoyed, but also pretty good. Better than his beige-best by a long shot.

Master “I’m pretending to be a Jedi” Ren is wandering around in a layered tunic that boasts a black underlayer with a grey overlay. It’s well fitted and heavy knit – so he’d probably found the steel thread he was looking for. The tunic wraps around his back into a heavy hood. A simple, but sturdy belt holsters his newly-healed weapon which is, arrogantly, on display for all. No subtlety there. His grey pants tuck into darker grey boots, and he has an overall “no frills” look to him. Still, not bad at all.

Seems ‘Jedi’ enough to Finn… though maybe Ren should paint his saber hilt silver or something…

Ren looks Finn dead in the eyes as he hoists a satchel of purchases over his shoulder. Even from a distance, Finn can tell he’s sighing heavily. The Darksider raises the cowl over his head to hide his face and turns to the side, walking away…

… and directly into a cantina.

CL startles Finn with a clap on the back, “Now there’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If Kylo could take a picture of Finn’s face and keep it with him forever, he would. He’d look at it whenever he was feeling down, just to recall this very moment and this very feeling.

“I’m tellin’ ya – I  _ saw  _ it on a Holo! It’s not the General… it’s the  _ Jedi Master! _ That’s the one doing all the work!”

“Holo? What  _ Holo?  _ I didn’t see any Holo…”

“Well  _ I  _ heard (hic) that the General is actually the Jedi’s  _ apprentice.” _

CL sits at the table with the other two drunk sentients and leans his chin on his hands. “No! Seriously?” His sarcasm is undetectable.

The Quarren on the left wriggles its face-tentacles and clacks his glass down hard on the table’s surface. “No way! These Stormtroopers are  _ alllllll  _ talking about how that General guy vouched for them. Took that bounty heat off them.”

CL flicks his thin braid over his shoulder. “Are you a hunter?”

The creature leans back, looking impressed with himself. “I’ve hunted. But not in a long time. We Quarren don’t live as long as you humans do. I have to choose my time wisely.”

CL smiles. “A hunter’s life isn’t a long life, no matter the species.”

The other alien at the table, a Togruta, is still sloshing around. “I wonder if the General’s Jedi Master is the same as the  _ Resistance _ Jedi I heard about. The girl.”

“Well, that would make sense, isn’t the other guy a  _ Resistance _ General?”

CL’s face perks up, looking pleasant enough, but with flint in his eyes. “From what I’ve heard, the Jedi Master is a male… and is definitely  _ not  _ from the Resistance.”

Finn snorts up his drink and starts a heavy cough from one table over. Kylo claps him on the back sympathetically while flinging his mind out to the trooper to figure out what the hell he’s doing.

_ “That _ Jedi is from the First Order ranks.” CL’s face is noncommittal, conversational… but Kylo can feel a wave of pride roll off the man.

He thinks about getting up to  _ end  _ this conversation.

The other sentients laugh. “Everyone knows the only Force user left in the First Order was the Supreme Leader.”

CL leans back and hums a sort of agreement. “What did you all think of him, here?”

One alien just shrugs. “I heard stories – but, all I know is that – when we became a First Order world, some things improved for us.”

CL sounds genuinely interested now. “Like what?”

The other scratches his face tendrils. “Farming. We had no real agriculture here. Not enough kinds of… (what’s the word in Basic...?)” The alien considers, mumbling in a foreign tongue to his friend beside him. 

He comes back with, “Plants? Seeds? Anyway, the Order brought those in for us, and now we have a whole continental stripe dedicated to farming. Food for us, food for exports, better trade overall.”

Kylo is facing away from this table but doesn’t try to stifle the pleased look on his face. Even while Finn still snuffles out whatever he’s just inhaled.

CL, who Kylo is sure must have been an interrogator at some point, presses on, “What about bad stuff? The Order must have screwed something up for you.”

One leans in, irritation clearly written on its face. “Curfews.”

CL raises his eyebrow.

The drunker one reels in his chair. “Curfews are stupid. Unnecessary. Takes away our freedom!”

The other alien cuts in, “But it stopped the riots. No more buildings being burned or stuff like that.”

“You had riots?”

“Of course we did – how long have you (hic) been here, huh? I worry about them starting up again. We still have our protests, though.” 

One alien gestures. “In the city proper, every night, creatures line up to protest about whatever they hate today. One day it’s too much trash in the street, the next day it’s because the rules about trash are too strict… on and on. It used to, I don’t know… escalate. Sometimes, I tell you, I think this planet is doomed.”

Both aliens clink their glasses together and shoot back their drinks.

Protests. Kylo mulls the thought over in his mind… that might be a good place to start.

A waitress slides up to their table, and Finn is still sopping the drink from his fabric with a twisted sneer on his lips. She slides a napkin-bearing hand onto the man’s shirt and coos, “I’m so sorry – here, let me get that for you.”

She pats the linen on Finn’s collar and the man all but falls out of his chair.

“Hello – hi, I mean – yes. I mean, I can do that – thanks.”

Kylo tries his best to only look mildly interested as the man begins to fumble over the woman fumbling over him. Once Finn and the woman lock eyes, the general pause between their two actions are... lengthy, and the crackle of chemistry is so overwhelming that Kylo seriously considers walking away.

“Are you… are you the  _ General?”  _ the woman whispers.

Kylo nearly beams into his glass on Finn’s behalf.

Finn, however, sputters, “Yes, I… Well, I mean. Wait – you recognize me?”

The waitress giggles. “Of course, you’re all over the Holo news. You’re the one working to save all those Stormtroopers.”

Finn’s sly grin makes him look stupid more than anything else, in Kylo’s opinion – but, what’s worse is the way he leans his elbow on the table and slides his eyebrows up and down his forehead. The man’s voice drops almost an octave, “Why – yes. Yes, that  _ is _ me."

For some reason, whatever he’s doing is working, and Kylo confirms he’ll never understand how humans do this.

The woman nods with a smile and bites her lips between her teeth a little bit. A moment of silence passes between them. Then another. Then…

_ “AHEM.”  _ CL coughs into his hand from the other table, “Miss! Can I ask for your help over here?”

The woman makes her excuses and saunters over to the most perceptive non-Force user that Kylo has ever met. Finn’s grin splits his face open, but when his eyes turn to Kylo’s, he tries to reign himself in. His expression sobers for only the briefest moments before he erupts into glee again, squealing like a girl. 

“I know,  _ isn’t _ she? I dunno – do you think she’ll actually come back and talk to me more?”

Kylo is about to answer, but Finn rattles on and he realizes – Ah. Finn’s not talking to him. “Better cool it, or CL-3337 will notice.”

Finn scoffs, “He’ll think I’m talking to  _ you.” _

Kylo shakes his head. “I think he’ll see through that immediately. You’re too happy.”

Finn frowns. “Sorry, Rey – your boyfriend is being a bit of a dick right now.”

Kylo smiles again into his cup as Finn picks up his own. “So, 'Master Ren'… what's the plan?”

Kylo purses his lips and swallows. He lifts his hand up to scratch against the facial hair that Finn’s been making him grow. It definitely makes him look different – but Gods does it itch. His hands go from his new-and-trim beard to the few strands of his hair that CL had wound together in braids and smirks, mildly excited. “It seems like we’re going to a protest.”

Finn’s face pulls a grim line. “Of course we are.”

~~~~~~~~~~

His first thought is that he hopes he’ll see that waitress again. 

His second thought is that this is a bad idea.

An angry crowd rallies around them, yelling and carrying on. Many races, many languages… many different classifications of  _ appendages…  _ One sort of tentacle-thing whaps Finn in the face, the owner passing off a short sound (an apology?) before it turns forward again and raises its angry sign in Aubresh.

CL’s game face is on. He leans over to whisper something to Ren, and Finn feels a flare of jealousy. Oddly, it isn’t Rey’s. Just his. It goes something like – _ ‘Hey, I’m the only one who gets to talk to him and live!’ _

He obviously needs to get out more.

The fight-item on today’s docket is about the new person who’s taken up leadership of this planet since the First Order fell apart. City and continental leadership have remained, but the previous planetary ruler had been ousted by the newborn alliance – along with any others in the galaxy who’d immediately rolled under the First Order with no qualms.

The people here want their original leader restored, and think the new guy is a crook. To be fair – all four of his antennae  _ do  _ seem to be shifty.

Cries of, “REINSTATE” and “DOWN WITH THE ALLIANCE” are all reasons why it’s  _ very important  _ that the 'Lightside Master Ren' step in. 

From Finn’s point of view – this will  _ definitely  _ get on a Holo, which will  _ definitely  _ be seen by the council, which will  _ definitely  _ give him an alibi when Poe asks who the hell he’s running around with besides Rey. Or asks where Rey is. 

It’s like he can hear it in his mind:  _ “No, see – look, Poe! Rey got hurt and we needed a Light side Force user to heal her! I found this guy… I know his lightsaber looks similar and his name is Ren… but I swear to God, he’s not -Kylo- Ren! I mean (scoffs) how could that guy have ever have made it out alive, anyway? No – wait – no! Don’t kick me out of being Co-General!!” _

A magistrate, dressed to impress, has stepped up to a pulpit on a high balcony. Finn notices that his face is weary, but as soon as the spotlight hits him, it transforms into something warm, welcoming, and open. Finn’s not sure whether this should make him feel bad for the guy, who is clearly not where he wants to be right now – or feel bad for the people, who may be being duped by a con artist.

He’s new to it, but thinks he may already hate politics.

“Sentients, sentients! Silence, please. Tonight, we are open to hear your grievances about the removal of Adjutant Amaren and the election of Adjutant Czkek.”

Just another night in wherever-the-hell they were, it seems. Until…

“Based on requests for support from our region, as well as many others, Adjutant Czkek has found a neutral third party to provide security for tonight – and for all nights to come.”

Finn turns around to see that the plaza’s entrance hosts a small handful of unexpected armored guards. The cries around them stifle slightly, and creatures are narrowing their eyes in confusion.

“Let me be clear – after today, with Adjutant Czkek’s new leadership, the protesting will  _ end. _ This will be our last night.”

Repelled, angry cries raise up from the mob around him, and the mood completely shifts. The type of anger… changes, somehow. Finn casts his eyes to CL and Ren, who are assessing the crowd for threats.

“After tonight, all complaints will be reviewed via submitted messages on your Holopads…”

A cry rings out, “What Holopads?”

The magistrate smiles a soft smile… his ‘deescalating smile’, Finn guesses, and holds up his hands, “Those of us who don’t have Holopads are welcome to submit feedback at the city center temple - my friends, your voice will matter. Our voices will  _ all  _ matter.”

Ren’s face is filled with nothing but a loud and clear ‘I-told-you-so’ as voices are ringing with continued alarm. There are cries of REINSTATE picking back up alongside KICK CZKEK. Finn leans back towards his cohort. “Is, like, everybody against this new guy?”

CL crosses his arms. “If they weren’t before – they are now.”

“What’s the difference between protesting out loud and doing it on paper?”

Ren’s smirk is cold… and angry. “FN-2187, You should know the answer to that.”

Finn huffs and shrugs. “Which is…?”

Ren’s eyebrows narrow. “Read your history. This is what democracy actually looks like. Not the ‘idealistic’ version… but the  _ reality  _ of obvious  _ corruption. _ In very short order, the people will no longer have any power here.”

Finn’s confusion still reads loud and clear, so Ren continues.

“First, you take away the unified voices in the community – telling them to submit their thoughts in private. Take away their right to assemble - in other words, what you see  _ right now. _

“Second - you ignore their submitted sentiments completely. Throw them away, burn them – it doesn’t matter, because the leadership already has its marching orders. 

“People who try to…” he raises his arms around him to gesture to the crowd,  _ "protest  _ – well, they’re breaking the law now. So you arrest them. And then, the dissenting voices? They start to go away.

“Because the people who still disagree, but aren’t brave enough to do so loudly... well, they just  _ give up. _ Because they think they’re alone. That they’re the only ones who feel the way they do… because the system is  _ broken. _ And, once the system is broken and the people have given up – you can do whatever you want and call it  _ ‘democracy’." _ He nearly hisses at the last. Above all – it seems like Ren hates hypocrisy – and this seems to be it. This new alliance is not starting out on the right foot, here. 

CL sounds mournful. “It’s a dictatorship in disguise. At least a  _ real  _ autocracy is more honest about it.”

Ren smirks. “If only there was such a thing as a ‘just’ dictator...”

Finn chimes in, “What, like, a king or something?”

CL looks at Ren, thoughtfully. “Well, that would solve a lot of problems.”

Finn blinks, mildly horrified, looking from them to the crowd – which is gearing up into a lather. Things are getting dangerous. They were only meant to be here to make an appearance… to get caught on a few Holos… but now…

Finn is about to turn to Ren and get them all to leave when he hears the Darksider’s voice ring out so clearly over the crowd that the voices hush in surprise.

“GOOD PEOPLE! I HEAR YOUR LEADERSHIP HAS BEEN UNJUSTLY OVERTHROWN!”

Finn’s heart sinks into his belly when he sees that Ren has leapt onto the Magistrate’s pulpit. The crowd screams and jeers all around him and Finn’s watches for any whisper of danger.

_ Stop him, Finn. Stop him -now-,  _ Rey pleads inside him.

“You don’t have to tell me twice…” Finn breathes, as he starts to shoulder his way through the crowd.

“DON’T LET THEM TAKE YOUR VOICE AWAY. DON’T LET THEM MAKE YOU  _ AFRAID." _

Finn is pushing through the arms and other appendages as the fear ratchets up in his mind. Rey is on repeat with,  _ Please, please, please,  _ ringing through him.

The Magistrate, who sulks behind Ren, tips his chin up to someone across the plaza that Finn can’t see. He gets eyes on CL; the ex-trooper is shoving backwards through the crowd, away from him. Finn’s in the middle, getting pushed around as he tries to work his way forward towards Ren… but he’s not fast enough… and he’s drowning in a sea of people.

“YOU ALREADY CHOSE YOUR SOVEREIGN. DON’T LET THEM MANIPULATE YOU. DON’T LET THEM TAKE THINGS AWAY FROM YOU. DON’T LET THEM TAKE YOUR VOICE AWAY.”

The crowd begins to grow more and more incensed, shouting, “DON’T LET THEM! DON’T LET THEM!”

Shots ring out and Finn’s heart is like ice. He doesn’t even have time to turn his head to see where they’ve come from before…

Ren protects himself, whipping his new blade out and pivoting it in a few wide arcs, bolts launching into the sky and away from the Magistrate. Away from the crowd.

Angry screams continue, as more blasts ring out – Finn’s head whips to the side and he sees CL swoop in from the shadows to take down two of the new ‘security guards’ with quick reflexes. The crowd turns on the rest.

It’s mayhem, and above it all, Ren stands – hands on the magistrate, pushing him out to face the crowd, once more. Ren screams, “TELL THEM!”

The Magistrate seems to cower and cinch his mouth shut, his antennae dipping towards the ground, but Ren just shoves him harder – keeping him in the eyes of the mob.  _ “TELL THEM!” _

The man lifts his arms weakly in a gesture of surrender and approaches the microphone again. Those not dealing with the firing squad turn their screams into a low rumble so they can pay attention.

“I… will recommend a new election for planetary leadership to the alliance, and I will personally ensure that our previous leader, the Adjutant Amaren, will be on the ballot.”

Ren nods viciously and releases the man, shoving him slightly towards the railing surrounding the balcony’s edge. He stands tall with his chest thrust out. “And I will join him. I will speak to this new alliance about the  _ necessity  _ of a  _ just  _ government! I will NOT let  _ them _ be the ones who decide what’s good for this planet! I WILL NOT LET THEM TAKE YOUR VOICES AWAY!” He yells, finally disengaging his royal-purple blade.

As if the crowd had only now seen it, fingers point up in awe. They all raise in silence at first… but then a new chant begins.

“Jedi…”

A man pounds his fist in the air. “JEDI!”

A Chagrin picks up the chant, “JEDI!”

A woman. A Changeling. A Yuzzum… until the crowd is screaming, “JEDI, JEDI, JEDI!”

Holo recorders are out, likely live streaming the footage. How long have they been recording?

Finn’s eyes fly to CL who merely nods at him and winks, saluting slightly. Through his horror, Finn realizes – they wanted to solidify Ren as a Jedi who staunchly believes in democracy…

… and they had certainly done just that. 


	21. Repercussions

Art by [ Chantal_Art](https://twitter.com/chantal_art?lang=en) (With Permission~)

  
  


_________________

“This isn’t what I wanted, and you  _ know  _ it,” Finn hisses, pointing his finger straight at Ren’s face. 

The Darksider says nothing; just stares at him blandly. 

“This was supposed to go _ slow.  _ This was supposed to  _ build up  _ over time. Now, basically, you just called out the new alliance.”

CL crosses his arms. “If they really believe in the ideals they brag about, they should be happy we unearthed some early corruption being done in their name.”

Chewie sits across from Ren at the Dejarik table and moans slightly, shaking his head, saying something like, “This isn’t the way Princess would have wanted it.”

At the mention of his mother, Ren stands abruptly and walks towards the hall leading to the cargo hold. Finn imagines that he's probably going to train with his new weapon and let off some steam. 

Still, Finn calls after him, “You really screwed us, Ren!” but he’d already left the room. Finn huffs, putting his hands on his hips and growls, “You screwed _ me  _ anyway.”

As if on-cue, the comm in the area beeps out an incoming. Chewie looks at the extension and groans, putting his furry hands over his eyes. “The Pilot.”

CL cocks an eyebrow, clearly irritated by his inability to understand Shyriiwook – and to understand what’s going on. Finn looks to the ceiling and heaves a deep sigh.  _ Join the club. _

“Turn it on,” Finn says. "Might as well get this over with."

The blue hologram crackles to life and Poe’s staticky face rises into view. CL stands, out of range of the camera, and softly exits the room. Finn is grateful for that.

“Hey, buddy!”

Finn’s face is still tilted up as he stands profile to the lens, not looking at Poe, though he smiles slightly anyway. “Hey, pal.”

Poe’s voice rings out, concerned. “Finn? You ok?" There is silence as Finn doesn't reply. Poe changes subjects. "Did you see the Holos?”

Finn looks at him sideways and tells a good lie. “What Holos?”

“There is another Force user. Some are calling him a Jedi – but I don’t believe it.  _ Rey _ is the last Jedi. Where is she? I haven't seen her since Kef Bir, and I need to talk to her. See if she can get a sense of this guy.”

Finn shakes his head, now staring at the floor. “She can’t talk.”

“She off the ship or something?”

Chewie moans out, “Or something.”

Finn’s eyes fly to him and his expression is hard. Chewie simply shrugs. In this moment, Finn decides that he hates everyone.

Poe’s voice drops an octave. “What’s he talking about? Something's wrong with Rey?”

Finn takes a deep breath and sits down, staring straight at the viewscreen, finally. “Yes. And something has been wrong with her for a while now, actually.”

“Since when?”

Finn looks at the floor again. “Since Exegol.” There is a great pause. Without looking up, he continues, afraid to see his friend’s face. “She died there, Poe… but she also didn’t. Not really.”

The Co-General's voice is horrified. “What are you talking about?!”

Finn looks up again. “The Force didn’t take her. She didn’t disappear – like you told me Leia did. And – I can hear her. In my mind. I can  _ feel  _ her, Poe. She’s stuck – in something like… a purgatory.”

The worry in Poe’s voice returns and his sight changes direction. “Chewie – is Finn okay? Is this actually real?”

The Wookie just nods.

Poe breathes in deeply and holds it a second before letting it out, loudly. “This was the 'Force Stuff' you needed to..." he trailed off. He runs his hands through his hair, remembering the first conversation after Exegol. The one when Finn decided not to return to the Resistance because he and Rey had 'Force Stuff' to do. It makes more sense now. "So, what do we do?”

Here it is. Here is Finn’s opening. Hope blooms in his heart and he feels Rey’s follow suit. He can do this. He can make this work.

“Remember when Rey healed that snake thing? In that sand pit?" He waits for Poe to nod in confirmation. "What if another Lightsider could do that for her? That's what I've been doing. That's what I've been looking for." Finn pauses in what he hopes is a contemplative gesture. He puts hope into his voice. "Do you think that guy on the Holo might be a Lightsider?”

Poe looks to the side, working his mouth for a minute. “You said… you said you had the Force now. Isn't it something _you_ can do?”

Finn scoffs. “I can barely meditate on my own. Anything more? It’s only because Rey is letting me use  _ her _ power.” He hates to admit it, but it’s the absolute truth.

The pilot considers. “I was going to ask you to go find that ‘Jedi’, anyway. He caused, well, a bit of a problem and the new alliance wants more intel.”

Finn wants to tell him about what happened on the planet. The chaos and violent reaction from the crowd, maybe even the feelings some had shared about the First Order's occupation... but he can’t admit he was ever there.

It hurts, in all honesty. It hurts to lie to a man who had, literally, saved his life. 

Even so – Rey comes first in Finn’s mind. Ever since he met her, she has always come first. He thinks of the blue thread that binds them and knows that  _ that  _ feeling has only grown stronger. It strengthens his resolve.

“Sure. Yeah – okay. Send me the coordinates.”

Poe starts to peck something in, but pauses, looking up with something like disappointment and Finn’s mood sinks. “Can you handle this without Rey?”

Finn just snorts.

“I’m serious. The Holos weren’t clear – but this guy looks massive. Like some sort of behemoth.”

Finn’s smile is more of an angry smirk. “I’ve got this, but thanks for your  _ concern.” _

Poe blinks for a second, backing off a bit. “Look, buddy – I didn’t know about Rey. I'm sorry. And I don't mean to... but I’m - well, honestly, I’m kind of freaking out here... 

“And you – you’ve been dealing with this all this time, and you never told me. That's..." He sighs. "How could you hide something like this from us, Finn? From the Resistance? From me? We’re supposed to be in this together, right?”

Finn considers, before just looking away and nodding. “I just wanted to bring her back before anyone knew.”

Poe shakes his head, averting his eyes. Finn feels a chasm drive between them. “Yeah. Okay, I get it.” Poe finishes keying in whatever he had started, not knowing that Finn was already there. “I sent you the location. See if he can help you… and see if he can help  _ us,  _ too. The more power we have working on our side, the better. Things are getting messy out there.”

He nods and Chewie howls out a mournful, wordless cry.

“Take care, then. But – keep in touch. Tell me what’s going on. Just – just  _ tell me, _ okay?”

Finn nods again, slowly.

Poe doesn’t say goodbye before he cuts off the transmission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He needs to dream with her; there’s simply no other way to put it.

Dreaming… It hurts. It heals. It compels. It teaches.

They’ve joined together in dreams of pouring rain, ships at sea, snow, even watching icicles melt in a spring thaw… and all these moments continue to bring them closer to each other. Deeper into each other. Into each other’s minds, hearts, and memories.

He’d defeated attackers to save her scavenge, ensuring her just one more meal. He’d kept her from falling and cracking her skull open when she was too small to get up high enough - up to where the tech was still high-grade. He’d cradled her to stave off her lonely nightmares. He’d lived in her body when she’d fought off three men who sought to take something from her… something that  _ wasn’t  _ a material possession. How he’d come to appreciate his own viciousness in that moment.

She’d saved him from a droid-gone-berserk in the years before he could even speak full sentences. She'd held his hand in the Jedi Temple, when he was so isolated he could barely stand it. She’d comforted him after the death of his only friend at the hands of the Knights of Ren. She’d stood before his kneeled body in front of Snoke, screaming vengeance at the disfigured form – attacking, wounding,  _ destroying. _

She’s seeing it. She’s seeing all of it… all of  _ him.  _ And she’s not running away. If anything, she’s running closer. They are like magnets, now.

In this single week of nights together, they have become more closely knit than they have ever been. She knows when he’s distancing himself from emotional pain. When he stirs up that pain to leverage it in battle. She knows of his loneliness to an aching depth he’d never thought possible…

…because she shares it. He knows her history of nights alone under the stars. He knows the hope that bloomed every morning and shattered every night as she waited in the desert sands. He knows the meaning of thirst and starvation and the small joy of building something that  _ works.  _ He knows her expressions – like how a tilt of a single eyebrow plus a quirk of the lip equals incredulity. How there was only a subtle difference between a smile of joy and a biting grin that would pull into a deep grimace, just before she eviscerated something.

Yet, of all the expressions he knew, there were still more that he ached for.

Every time he feels her skin, his blood quickens. He wants to keep touching her. His body  _ begs  _ to keep touching her. And, if he ever has the opportunity, he wants to do so while watching her. He fantasizes about simply holding his sights on her and soaking in every moment - every time she might fold her bottom lip between her teeth or let her eyes flutter closed.

She looks at him in the same way as they orbit each other, a  _ heat  _ that calls to them… but they want to dream together. They don’t want to wake up. They don’t want to be away from each other. They don’t want it to stop.

So they keep their distance. All so  _ Finn  _ won’t feel it.

Tonight, they sit facing each other. The jeweled waterfall behind him, so she can easily see it from her vantage point. He’s laughing softly at her. He finds her intoxicatingly charming, when she wants to be.

She smiles back and whaps his knee softly. “Stop it,” she fakes indignation, “it’s not funny.”

“I completely disagree.” He chuckles warmly, bringing the palm of his hand up to cover his grin shyly, as his elbow rests on his bent knee. He sees her eyes twinkle at him before flicking down.  Ah. _ This  _ expression means that she wants to actually  _ see _ his smile – so he lowers his hand.

The haze of mist keeps the air cool around them, and she returns his smile before her expression turns pensive.

He quirks his eyebrows in a silent question towards her, and she looks down at her lap.

“Can I tell you something? Something like a secret?” Her accent lilts, and her voice is quiet.

He says nothing but scoots closer to her, tipping his head down so that, even with her eyes angled at the ground, she’ll still see him looking at her. His hair slips down to fall into his eyes, but he doesn't brush it away.

She cracks a grin and huffs out a small laugh, so he quirks his lips slightly.

“Well, then,” she starts, breathing in deeply. She doesn’t connect her eyes to his; they remain distant. He’s almost concerned… until she speaks.

“I want to touch you.”

He feels his breathing stop. It’s something he’s known, but she’s never said. Hearing the words aloud was… flooring. She lifts her eyes and holds them on his, tentative and nervous.

“There are times when you wake up and Finn is still asleep. In those hours – I think about touching you.” Her lips part. He tries to move closer to her, but she holds out a hand to stop him. Freezing in place, he just continues to look at her. Embarrassment runs over her features, but she doesn’t stop.

“I know that you can’t touch me like I want you to, because of our…  _ situation.”  _ Her eyes lock on him, boldly. “But I know you  _ would  _ if I asked you to.”

His cheeks flare with color, but he doesn’t look away. Her cheeks flush as well, so at least he’s not alone.

“And… I think if I touch you – I might  _ like it  _ too much. And then we’d have the same problem.”

Kylo works his jaw, casting his eyes to the side.

“But I thought that, maybe… maybe if I just  _ told you  _ what I wanted to do…” she trails off, embarrassment creeping back into her voice.

He turns back to face her. Her eyes are half lidded and the pink of her cheeks has his heart racing.

“But if I do – I can’t look at you.”

His eyebrows knit in confusion.

“Because, if I see you… if telling you what I want to do makes you…” she flails her hands around, searching for the words,  _ "feel  _ something. If I see you… like that…” she looks away, “I might not be able to stop myself.”

He finally breathes again. For a moment, they just sit. She’s on the ground with her knees up to her chest. He can see the curve of her bottom flattened against the moss. Her arms drape over her knees and she brings her head forward, hiding her face from him.

“What do you want me to do, Rey?” he intones, cocking his head to the side once more.

She doesn’t move her head from where it is, her face concealed, but her voice is strong and clear.

“I want you to  _ listen.  _ I want you to listen, but you can’t touch me. You can’t  _ say  _ anything. Not even a whisper of a word, or he’ll wake us up. I know he will.”

Kylo’s heart is in his throat and his body is already tense with anticipation.

In a whisper of a sound, he says, “Alright.”

And so she begins. 

“I want to put my hands on you. I don’t know if I’m supposed to do something special… but I want to touch your skin. I want to start with your shoulders. I - I want to wrap my arms around your back and up over you. You're so…  _ big…  _ and I just want to feel you around me. I want you to completely cover me. I want to feel how warm you are.

“I want to put my lips on you. I want to kiss – like we did before. I want to…” Her breath hitches, and Kylo’s mouth waters.

“I want to  _ taste  _ you. I want to… use my tongue. I think about it… about what you might taste like.”

He wants to respond, he has so  _ much  _ he wants to say. That he’ll remember his first taste of her until his last breath. That her words are making him ache for her… but she asked for silence, so he swallows his hunger.

“I want to see you. I mean… I’ve seen you, a few times, without…” she lets out a quiet laugh, “a  _ cowl.  _ But – I want to really  _ look.  _ I don’t want to look away. I want you to turn around, so I can see your back. I want to see what the line of your spine looks like. I want to run my fingers down it.”

He’s trembling.

“I just want to  _ feel  _ you. I want to pull you in close to me and… and… I don’t even know what!” She digs her head deeper into her arms and shakes her head back and forth.

“My body hurts, Ben – and I don’t understand  _ why.  _ It  _ aches  _ and I feel like I just  _ need  _ something. I don’t know why – but I think you can help me. I think you can help this  _ need  _ go away. Make it feel better, somehow.”

He’s straining in more ways than one. He’s rock hard, but he’s also holding himself back – from speaking… from holding her… from showing her what he can do to make it feel oh-so-much-more than just ‘better'.

“It’s like – I want to beg you for something, but I don’t know what. When I’m alone and I think of you – you’re always so close to touching me… and I just want to  _ beg.  _ I want to ask you ‘please’ over and over again – but I don’t know what I’m asking you to do…” She lets out a grunt of frustration.

“I’ve NEVER felt this way. I don’t understand it. It hurts… but it’s… it’s  _ more  _ than that. I feel…  _ empty. _ Inside.”  Her voice cracks. “I don’t understand.”

He can’t hold back, but he dares not touch her – because if he did, he wouldn’t stop until someone made him.

“I understand.”

She lifts her head and he sees her red-rimmed eyes, vulnerable on his.

“It’s normal. It’s natural.” He pauses, trying his best to keep his gaze only on her eyes. “And I think I know what to do.”

Her mouth drops open, ever so slightly, and a look of pure  _ desire  _ washes over her. “You do?”

He breathes in heavily through his nose. “I have something I want to try…”

She recoils into herself a little. “Don’t…”

“I won’t touch you. I want to – Gods, Rey, I  _ want  _ to… but I won’t.”

She nods slowly and lowers her knees, folding them together in a criss-cross. He brings his hands towards her, slowly, and she makes the decision to trust him. He hovers his hands over her shoulders but doesn’t make contact. He can feel the warm aura exude from her, and she shivers a little.

He parts his lips. “I want to kiss you, Rey.” She breathes in a little quickly, and her hazel eyes bore into his. His hands drift down her arms, without touching. The static from the air passing between them is making her skin prickle.

“I think about you, too.” He bites his lip and presses forward, “While you were gone – I had that feeling in my body, too – so I  _ pretended.” _

Her eyes shutter and she tips her head slightly back, exposing her throat to him. “What did you pretend?” she nearly whispers.

“That you were touching me. Doing all those things you said… and  _ more.” _

His hands slide around in front of her and hover over her breasts, still not touching. Even so, the heat of his palms makes her gasp slightly and she  _ arches  _ her back – he has to pull away slightly to keep his promise.

“What’s ‘more', Ben?”

“I know what that ache is,” his voice is low and rumbling, “I feel it, too.” He moves his presence down her abdomen and hovers it over the very bottom of her belly – below where he imagines her navel might be. Where he imagines he’d like to put his tongue.

He feels scalding warmth emanating from her at the place where her legs join. His voice is low, “When I feel it in my body, it’s right around  _ here.”  _ He hovers his palm over her. She lets out a small groan and he tips his head forward and squeezes his eyes shut. Inches, no – less, and he could touch her. He wants to touch her…

“Is that where you feel it?”

“Yes,” she breathes. Her legs tip further apart ever so slightly and he bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste copper.

He brings himself close to her ear, hovering over her, never making contact. “I want to touch you there,” he whispers. She lets out a small noise he can’t define and it causes a searing wave to flow down him. “I want to give you what you  _ need.” _

“Can you make the ache stop?”

“Oh, baby, I can make it all better. I  _ promise.” _

She groans and leans back onto the ground, her face aflame and her chest heaving. “I want you to. I want you to touch me, Ben.”

He gets on his hands and knees, straddling over her, hovering. Lips so close he can feel her breath on him. His hips flex in ever so slightly as his body pleads for her. His voice is strained, “I want to.”

“Please,” she whispers.

“I will. Soon. I promise.”

_ "Please,  _ now… I don’t care anymore. I want you to.  _ Please,”  _ she begs.

He lowers himself down to do so…

And wakes up.

__

__

~~~~~~~~~~

He sits up, breathless, and his eyes go to her immediately. He stands in a quick motion and nearly flies to her side. His hands hover over her once more, wanting so much to be back in that moment – but the moment is gone. Rey is cold and pale.

Fury  _ flames  _ in Kylo’s chest as he rears his body back, pulling his hands away as if he’s been singed. Touching her when she’s like this would be unforgivable. Disgusting.

He thrusts his hands into his hair, getting tangled in the braids he never even wanted. The room is too small, suddenly. Everything is too much. He can’t breathe.

Kylo lashes out and grasps at his cot, throwing it over with a crash that reverberates against the walls. It’s not enough.

He rakes his hand over the shelving, shattering supplies and cascading things to the floor.

In the middle of his destruction, he lets out a roar of a yell that pours from the very core of him. He’s chanting in his mind,  _ this isn’t helping, this isn’t helping…  _ but he can’t seem to stop.

He pounds his fist against the durasteel once. Twice. Three times before he collapses his torso onto it, resting his forehead on the cool surface.

“Is that the Jedi girl?”

CL’s voice turns Kylo’s blood cold. He whips his head around to see the ex-trooper, who stands with his eyes locked on Rey.

“Get out,” he hisses.

Finn is close behind, chasing the CL down. “Yo! Hey, you know you’re not supposed to…!” The man's feet skid to a halt as he enters the room and gapes. He sees both the destruction and CL’s eyes locked on Rey and freezes.

“What’s going on?” CL asks, lost. Concerned.

“GET HIM OUT OF HERE!” Kylo bellows and Finn jumps into action, grabbing CL and nearly dragging him out of the med-bay.

Kylo coughs out a self-deprecating laugh and turns his back to the wall, letting himself slide down. He eyes his havoc – it’s been a while.

He takes a few breaths and tries to regroup. He thinks of the Light. He lets the soothing calm wash over him. It’s not distancing himself from the pain he feels, but trying to soothe it. 

Hoisting himself up, he slowly starts to right things around the room.

It’s time he learned to pick up his own mess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn avoids CL and his never-ending questions. He’d seen her. He’d seen Rey… and  _ even worse – _ he knew who she was. How he knew…? Well, for that answer, Finn would need to have a conversation with him, and that’s something he refuses to do.

Let Ren clean up his own mess.

_ Please – he’s trying so hard, Finn. Can’t you feel him? You have to make him stop. It’s too much. _

Finn stalks outside the med-bay, taking a look through the window periodically as he grunts and scratches his fingers through his hair in frustration. “And how do you suppose I do  _ that?  _ Huh? Look at him – look at this! How am I supposed to do anything about  _ this?” _

He feels her panic, but tries to push it aside. It’s not helping. She’s making it worse. Love and devotion and longing swell through him, but it only makes him more angry. He stomps to the med-bay window once more and stares in with a harsh glare.

Ren is holding Rey’s body and his brows are knit so closely together it’s like they’re one. She is placed over his lap perfectly and he holds a hand over her brow and on her belly… as he almost  _ glows.  _ The air around him shimmers like heat off a runway tarmac, and Finn can feel small vibrations through his feet.

Chewie places an unexpected paw on Finn’s shoulder, startling him. The Wookie nods…

… and walks into the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He  _ has  _ to do this. He has to  _ try. _

He tries to think back on what it felt like when she’d healed him. The flesh knitting back together, his lungs filling back up with air. He thinks about his failure on the Exegol floor, when he’d tried to heal her the first time.

It didn’t work then… and it’s not working now.

Fear rolls off him in waves. What if he can never do this? What if he can never save her? What if they’re doomed to orbit each other in his dreams until he dies? As his body ages and she stays forever the same. He’ll become feeble, and her desire will turn to distaste, disappointment, and  _ pity. _

Still, he tries. He opens every window and door in his mind and body and feels the Force flowing through him – but, it’s stunted. Strong, so strong… but not enough.

Why is he never enough?

CL is in the hanger, confused and disheartened. Finn is outside the door, furious. And Chewie – he’s coming closer… and he’s so  _ sad.  _

Why does he ruin the lives of others? Why can’t he make anybody proud? Happy? His hands clench into Rey’s clothing. Even  _ one  _ person… why can’t he at least make  _ one  _ person happy?

The door creaks as Chewie enters the room. Kylo could stop – push the Wookie away – but he won’t bother. He keeps his focus  _ down _ and  _ in _ … but he’s losing his grip on the Force. Exhaustion pours out of him.

When the Wookie sits down next to Rey, Kylo’s concentration finally breaks, and he sags over her quickly, gasping. His body is protective as he folds his arms around her and presses their foreheads together.

“I can’t do it.” The words come out raw. “I can’t…” his voice cracks.

Chewie changes his position, scooting to sit next to Kylo now. He moans, “You can. Stupid Boy is strong – and is  _ remembering.  _ Remembering what Princess’ Twin taught him.”

“I never learned  _ this.” _

The sounds the Wookie makes are mournful, “But Stupid Boy is learning even _more._ And Strong Girl? She’s worth the effort. You love Strong Girl? If Stupid Boy loves her – never give up. You can do this.” Chewie growls firmly, “You  _ will  _ do this.” 

They sit in silence for a handful of minutes as Kylo continues to breathe with his forehead pressed against Rey’s; Chewie’s presence, somehow a balming comfort. 

The Wookie stands up with a grunt and begins his heavy stomp behind Kylo and back out of the room.

Softly, “Thanks, Uncle Chewie...” 

...and it had just slipped out – before Kylo had a moment to catch it between his teeth.

The Wookie pauses, and they share another moment of silence… before Chewbacca slowly strides away from the boy who loved blue butterflies. 


	22. Draft of the Galaxy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following warnings: Alcohol use (in good fun), and vomiting/self-harm/blood in the last two segments.  
> There is also politics. So, there's that...

  
  


Art by [ Lucy.British.Old (The artist Formally known as loobeeinthesky)](https://littleststarfighter.tumblr.com/post/155447285197/when-the-shadows-remain-in-the-light-of-day-on-the)

_________________

He watches as CL raps his knuckles over an empty crate in the dimly lit hanger. The boxes sparsely line the area, waiting for something to fill them; some new supply run or smuggling operation. The trooper will never know the rich history of this ship and what it’s seen. To him? It’s just another transport. A piece of junk one, at that. CL looks up to the high paneling and notes some gouges and scrapes – undoubtedly a story in every one.

Kylo dims his presence and just observes CL as he saunters around, flicking his rattail braid between his fingers, looking at everything and nothing, mind awash in contemplation. Sensing CL’s feelings, Kylo knows he has disappointed the ex-trooper. 

Add him to the list.

Kylo clears his throat and CL turns around, quickly placing himself in a defensive stance that earns Kylo’s internal praise. Instead of saying so, though, he simply nods roughly and tilts his head towards the access door. His intention is clear.

Follow.

Four heels stride along the durasteel floor at a briskish pace, turning corners efficiently and in lock step.

Kylo opens the forbidden med-bay door and tilts his head once more, motioning the ex-trooper inside. CL eyes him warily, unclear of whether or not to step in; his mind echoing out the word,  _ Test? _

With a sigh, Kylo goes first, and the other man follows closely behind him.

The Darksider steps next to the occupied cot, absentmindedly fiddling with the blankets to straighten them. His lips pull into a frown as he keeps his eyes on her.

“CL-3337,” he begins. He curses his expressive eyes when he finally looks up the older gentleman with sorrow in his gaze. “This is Rey.”

CL steps up to her side, gazing down with a sort of reverence. Her hair still pools around her head, as Finn had left her. She is pale, but Kylo still finds her beautiful, even in her deathlike state. CL nearly whispers, “The Jedi girl?”

Kylo shakes his head, slightly. “Not a Jedi anymore.”

CL’s expression softens further. “And she’s the one who defeated Palpatine?”

Dark hair sweeps over his forehead as Kylo just nods solemnly.

The trooper edges even closer to the bed and peers down at her. Kylo’s hackles start to rise, but he holds himself at bay. CL’s eyes slip closed, nodding his head forward into something like a bow.

“We owe you a great debt, my lady. All the worlds in the Galaxy do.”

Kylo continues to somberly tuck her blanket in around the sides, fidgety and slightly unsure of what to do with himself. Ever perceptive, the old-timer opens his mouth, “So – there’s still something left inside her, then? You’re trying to save her life.”

He’ll never stop being surprised by this man, Kylo decides. Simply put, “Yes.”

“Out of obligation? Gratitude?”

Kylo scoffs and turns slightly away.

“Redemption, then? The Galaxy would benefit from someone like her…”

Kylo’s nod is firm and gives no room for argument. “It would.”

“No other reason?” CL eyes him slyly, and he feels his skin prickle. “Repentance? Regret?”

“Love,” Kylo breathes.

CL’s smile grows gently and his eyes warm considerably. “I knew it. The moment I saw you take off your mask, I knew it.”

Scoffing again, “I didn’t. Not then.” At that point, it was just a howling obsession.

“Does  _ she  _ know?”

“Yes. Though I’ve never had a chance to say it to her.”

CL snorts, “That’s likely untrue. Maybe you haven’t had a perfect moment – but I’ll bet you had the chance.” He winks and Kylo rolls his eyes heavily. “Does she love you?”

Kylo’s eyes sink to the floor and he contemplates. He thinks softly of the time they’ve spent together – but suddenly, putting the pieces together, he feels a heavy sadness wash over him. He hasn’t been able to comprehend why she doesn’t turn away from him. Why she still returns to him, night after night. Why she comes closer and closer. Why she looks at him with such a heated gaze.

With the puzzle stitched together, her acceptance makes sense. He understands... it’s because it’s never really been _him_ she was looking at.

She’s been looking at who he  _ used to be. _

All his most miserable memories, times in his life that pushed him towards his descent into darkness...  _ that _ is what he’s shared with her. That’s mostly all she’s seen of him.

With a heavy heart, he realizes that she may never look at  _ him. _ Again, and always, her eyes are ever on ‘Ben Solo.’

All these thoughts cascade through his mind quicker than it takes to blink. Slowly, he decides to shake his head again. “She feels something – but I don’t know that it’s love.”

CL nods, sagely. He rights himself until his back is straight and proud, rolling his shoulders to attention for good measure. “What should I call you, by-the-way?”

“Hmm?”

CL ticks off names on his fingers, “RN-218… 6, was it? Ren? Kylo Ren? The Jedi Killer? Supreme Leader…?” Snorting, “Well, maybe most of those will get us killed. Maybe just ‘Sir’?”

Kylo can’t help but quirk his lips. “I don’t care, either way.”

“I could try to call you what the Wookie calls you… but I have no idea if I could pronounce it.” Even so – CL tries, leaning back and letting out a gurgling sound that was more than a little ridiculous and likely more than a little offensive, if Chewie were to hear.

At that, Kylo can’t help but huff a laugh, his dimples peeking out and and making CL shine like a star.

“There it is. I knew you had one.”

“One what?”

CL’s eyes twinkle. “A sense of humor.”

Kylo rolls his eyes once more.

~~~~~~

Finn is sulking, but looks up as CL raps his knuckles over the doorframe of his quarters. He ticks his eyebrows up and CL’s grin is wide. He says two words and two words only:

“Family Meeting.”

~~~~~

Chewie sits beside him, which means it’s already too hot.

CL sits across at the Dejarik table with his arms spread into the air in a stretch. He looks like the cat who ate the canary, so Finn guesses that Ren had sorted out  _ one  _ issue, at least.

Speaking of the Darksider, he’s prepping something at the counter of the common area away from view.

“What’s a family meeting?” he asks. Never having a family, he didn’t catch the reference.

Ren grunts, turning over his shoulder and narrowing his eyes at CL, who just shrugs. “What? It’s how I used to rally my troops.”

Ren turns away again and says in a low grumble, “We need to plan our next move.”

“Gee, ya’ think?” Finn petulantly scoots down in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

“And I think Lady Rey should be involved in the conversation.” CL grins.

Finn sits straight up, scandalized. “You  _ know?” _

A bubbling sound comes out from behind him. It’s… an unknown sound. Rey’s mirth dances within Finn and he turns around to understand that Ren had just… chuckled. A short, but unmistakable sound. Over almost before it began.

No words come from Finn’s mouth, but it opens wide, anyway.

When Ren turns around, all signs of amusement are gone, and he holds three empty cups in his hands. Stomping towards them, he places them on the main table and tosses a handful of data chips next to them. Chewie claps his paws and sits up, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, with a pleased grumble.

“What’s this now?” Finn asks, almost rhetorically, not imagining an answer.

Ren gestures to one cup, “The King.” Points to one more, “The Queen,” and twirls the last between his two palms before setting it down again, “and the Joker.”

In a parlor trick that has Rey rolling her eyes inside him, Finn sees Ren flick out six data chips per person – except Finn gets twelve. He eyes them with a bit of confusion, but Rey laughs inside him.

_ The extra ones are for me. _

“Rules go like this – throw your chips, get them in. Any cup.” He gestures across them.

CL eyes his chips. “Does it matter which?”

Ren smirks. “Of course it does.” Without elaborating, he tosses a chip and it lands in the “Queen” cup.

CL is farther away and, so, misses completely with a curse. Chewie stands to back up and throw from behind the seating. It also clinks “Queen.”

Finn hesitates and raises his hand.

CL stops him. “Nah-ah-ah,” he waggles his finger, “Ladies first.”

Finn’s mouth pulls into a scowl and he glares at Ren. “How much did you  _ tell  _ him, anyway?”

Ren looks at CL innocently, and the trooper asks a roguish, “Enough?” Without waiting for confirmation, CL nods and turns back towards Finn. “Let’s just say ‘enough’.”

Finn really  _ does  _ hate everyone. This whole damn ship can blast to hell. “And how do you suppose I do,  _ ‘Ladies First’,  _ huh?”

But before Finn can continue his sentence, a data chip plucks itself from his fingers and hovers before his eyes. He basically hears a giggle in his mind as she lilts out,  _ Like this… _

Hers lands solidly in “King.”

“Damn it, Rey.”

CL’s eyes are wide, and he claps one hand over his mouth. “It worked… oh man, it really worked! She  _ actually _ did it!” He sounds way too gleeful, in Finn’s opinion.

Finn grimaces and tosses his chip haphazardly into the “Joker.”

They go, round-robin style, CL squealing with delight each time Rey flicks one of her chips. A good number of them miss, but – honestly, Finn isn’t doing much better. CL’s improving as rounds go on and seems to be trying to get in one-per-cup. Chewie has picked a single cup and is going whole hog for it. Ren is practicing chaos theory, for all Finn can tell. No rhyme or reason to anything.

Finally, with all chips either in a cup or strewn across the floor, Ren sits up. He hands out each glass separately – one to Chewie, to Finn, and CL.

“Count.”

Finn snorts, “You count.”

Ren raises his eyebrows at him with a haughty glare and Finn groans before quickly giving in.

Rey grumps her agreement,  _ Not every battle is a hill worth dying on, I guess. _

“You said that right,” Finn mutters.

“Huh?” CL asks.

Finn just continues to scowl and shakes his head.

The King got 5 chips. The Queen got 6. The floor was a good contender with 8, but the Joker won out with 11.

“Joker has it,” Chewie howls out.

Finn flicks lint from his shirt. “So, this was for… what, exactly?”

Ren’s lips quirk up, “Our next game plan.” He holds up the Joker between his heavy fingers, “We’ve just decided that we’re going to become mediators between the alliance and the planetary government.”

Finn’s eyes go wide and his mouth goes dry…

“What were the other options?”

~~~~

In the cantina again, Finn leans against a wall. He’s just there to waste time. Ren  _ – _ the stingy bastard  _ – _ didn’t give him any credits, so he’s nursing a glass of water.

But, even with his water, he must admit – the thirst is real.

The waitress from last night is working her shift. She hasn’t seen him yet, and he’s totally trying not to look like a stalker or anything, so he mostly tries to keep her in his peripheral.

_ She is so pretty, Finn. _

He grabs his comm and pretends to talk into it. “I have never heard you say a truer sentence.”

The woman is a little small with almond shaped eyes and bone straight hair, falling to her waist in dancing black strands.

_ She looks like Rose. _

Finn frowns. “I have no interest in Rose.”

_ Well, don’t tell -her- that. _

Finn nurses back a frigid sip. “Is it weird if I ask her for her name?”

_ I don’t know – will you -make- it weird? _

“Knowing me? Likely, yes.”

Rey just laughs and so he grins along with her. It’s nice – conspiratorial, really. He whispers into his comm again, “Think Ren will let me out for a date?”

The coy sound in Rey’s voice is evident,  _ Just go when he’s sleeping. _

Finn nods. “That could work… that could-”

_ Watch out… _

Finn’s thought train derails as he gets thumped into by the woman he’s been secretly ogling for the past few minutes and he topples sideways, hitting the floor with water spilling all over both both of them.

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!!” she cries out.

Yup, accent. The one he’d been thinking about since yesterday. The jury had been out this, but it’s official – Finn definitely has a thing for accents.

He turns around to excuse himself, but the grin on her lips distracts him as she sits on the ground, pushing her hair back behind her ears.

“It’s you again! The General, right?”

“Oh, me? Yes – me! And… you, too!”

Gods bless her, she laughs. Remembering himself, he stands and offers a hand to help her up as well. “Sorry for that – I guess I was just… not paying attention.” He laughs at himself.

Her eyes twinkle in a devilish expression, “Well, I owe  _ you  _ an apology, actually.”

Finn tries to shake his head but she pats him on the shoulder with an unexpected look in her eyes, “Because I  _ was  _ paying attention… and I bumped you on purpose.”

Finn’s heart stutters and he hears Rey,  _ Ohhhhhhhh!  _ within him, adding to his shock.

It’s then that the cantina door slams open and CL clomps in, Ren close behind.

Damn his timing.

As soon as Ren enters the room, eyes go up to see him. CL is a big man – but Ren is still larger and… more intimidating. Whispers spring up across the cantina. Finn can’t help but feel his irritation perk up because, of course, people already know who Ren is.

Also – no one had whispered when  _ he  _ walked into the cantina. Just saying…

Finn does his job, “Hey! You!” He juts his chin towards his cohorts. “You were the one at the protest last night, right?”

Ren does  _ his  _ job and narrows his eyes, stomping over. “And you are…?”

The beautiful-goddesslike-waitress whispers over towards Finn, “Didn’t you guys have drinks together yesterd-“

But she doesn’t get the full thought out before Ren waves his hands slightly in front of her. He says in a solid and firm tone, “You’ve never seen him and I together before.”

Her voice is dry and her accent upswings, somehow, “I never saw you together.”

Finn can almost hear Rey’s smile,  _ I can do that too, you know. _

Finn whispers, “Show off.”

Ren tilts up an eyebrow at Finn, but concentrates as he waves once more. “The only one you saw at the table yesterday was the General of the Resistance.”

“Yes, I like him. He’s funny… and cute,” she sounds airy, like she’s on the verge of a giggle. CL claps Finn on the shoulder, wordlessly.

Ren is about to wave his hand once more, but Finn pushes in between him and the woman and just intones, “Right, I think you’ve melted enough brains today.”

Ren’s lips quirk and he releases his hand, the woman steadying on her feet and looking up at him blandly. “Drink?”

“No.”

Rude.

CL steps in, “None for me, either, but thank you very much for noticing me.”

Also rude. Why is everyone he’s with an embarrassment? Where’s the Wookie? Never mind… Finn realizes he doesn’t want  _ him _ either.

The wonderful-goddess-waitress lets her eyes glide up and down his body obviously with a flirty smile before she makes her way over to the rest of the bar-goers. Finn’s stomach is still in knots as he watches her go.

Ren ‘ahems,’ pulling Finn’s attention back to matters at hand. “You called me over. Why?”

Finn nods firmly, “About that stunt you pulled last night…”

~~~~~~

Kylo stands at attention with as much of his hood drawn over his forehead as he’s able. The shadow falls over all but his jawline, which is now lined with his new, trim facial hair to further disguise him. Snoke had been very adamant about purging Ben Solo’s image, name, and history from the Galaxy’s records, but who knows what Intel the Resistance has. It was run by his  _ mother, _ after all. 

Perhaps he should be grateful he hadn’t seen her since his youth.

CL stands in front slightly, almost like a visual shield. The pilot’s face crackles on the blue viewscreen as other sentients surround him, only a few species and races accounted for.

“He wants to do  _ what  _ now?”

Finn keeps his arms folded over his chest and states, “He wants to ‘mediate’ between the new alliance and the existing leadership of this planet.”

A voice from behind the pilot rings out, “We don’t need mediation! This is outrageous! We have no issues that need resolving here.”

Finn opens his mouth to speak, but Kylo cuts him off. 

“Are you sure? Because I saw a  _ substantial _ sum of people about to rush the local magistrate and murder your hired mercenaries... all because you behaved like  _ usurpers.” _

The room is met with stunned silence. Kylo sarcastically wonders if he used words that were too big for this eclectic mix, feeling generally smug about the situation. “Or – was that  _ not  _ your intention?”

The pilot’s face is knit in a look of both calculation and fury – though Kylo would be surprised if  _ that  _ mind could calculate its way out of a sock... 

In any case, Dameron grits his teeth. “They aren't our mercenaries - they're third party. And who are you, anyway?”

CL straightens up, even though no one was talking to him. “I am CL-3337 and this is my colleague, RN-2186.”

Kylo nods slightly.

Poe snorts, “RN? What do they call you,  _ Ren?” _

Finn chimes in, “Yeah – actually, they do.”

Poe’s hackles rise and Kylo can almost hear the alarm bells go off in the man’s mind. Another self-satisfied wave runs through him. Part of him wants to see what happens if he’s found out. That part of him still wants to kill them all and watch the world burn.

But he watches CL stand before him with complete faith in what they’re intending to do. Defend the rights of the people. He also senses Finn, on edge, praying that he’ll follow script. 

Kylo decides to take a calming breath.

“You seem to have taken issue with the existing local leadership. Enough to try to replace it with a puppet, anyway.” Kylo shoots a glare directly at the Pilot, daring Dameron to contradict him. “I imagine that you sought control in order to force this planet adhere to some... general guidelines that the alliance intends to abide by - but let me be clear: you have  _ no say _ in the matter. 

“There is no  _ official _ ‘new alliance.’ For all we know, there may be no benefit in aligning with you. There may even be a downside. Therefore, you will have no power in the system above what this planetary leadership  _ allows  _ you.”

The silence in the room lasts only a moment before a general rabble of sound is heard coming through the comm. Dameron turns and tries to settle the raging bodies behind him before looking back out from the viewscreen again.

“And – what authority do you think  _ you  _ have? Why are you even in this conversation?”

Kylo grins, though it’s shadowed over by his hood. “I have an… understanding with the people here in the capital. It seems they’d prefer someone to advocate on their behalf.”

Someone calls out from the back of Dameron’s room, “A Stormtrooper?”

CL clarifies, “Ex-Stormtrooper. Who helped overthrow the First Order, the same as you. A strong Force user. One who will stand up for the will of the people, like he did last night.”

The pilot scowls, “Those people are recovering from the First Order’s occupation – they don’t know what they need! ! They’ll cling onto  _ anything  _ that looks like a hero. They need to trust  _ us. _ We know what’s best for–“

Kylo cuts in, “You sound just like Snoke. He ‘knew what people needed,’ too.” 

He lets the sentiment hang heavy for a moment. 

“Isn’t the ‘new alliance’ for democracy? Defined as: ‘A system _ of  _ and  _ by _ the people’. If you rip-and-replace their leadership without even consulting them – you are going directly against what you stand for.”

A sane voice chimes up from behind the viewscreen, “He’s right. Leia Organa would not want us to do things like this. She would want collaboration. Consensus. Agreement.”

Another voice chimes in, quiet, furtive, “But if we don’t fold in systems quickly – we won’t align fast enough to-“

CL interrupts, “To what? Pull together a new army of invaders?”

Dameron nearly hisses, “A  _ draft  _ of what the government of the new alliance should look like. We want to continue to be the beacon of hope and civility. It’s the next step now that the Resistance has won. We need to pull people together.”

Kylo smirks again. “You want to draft a government? Read your history. Learn what -not- to do. I’m sure the flaws of the New Republic’s structure will be quite obvious.”

He can almost feel Finn bite the insides of his cheeks as he delivers his predetermined line, “And what do  _ you  _ know about it?”

There we are… that went just the way it should have. 

Kylo hides his pleasure, nods and opens his mouth to start speaking.

~~~~~~~~

It took about an hour, but they assembled the planet’s leaders. The bowing magistrate came first and then made way for the two Adjutants. This way, a legitimate conversation could be had.

The new alliance and their ‘talking head’ are one party. The incumbent – with the support of his people – is another. Oh, and let’s not forget... the  _ ex-Supreme Leader of the First Order. _

It’s surreal. 

Finn doesn’t give one ounce of attention to the conversation, only to the fact that Ren is  _ educating the alliance  _ on the history of the Galaxy. Governmental systems that rose and fell. What worked for how long, and what crashed and burned. And Blah, Blah, BlahBlahBlah.

_ I can’t stand listening. -This- is what it’s like talking to him about history and politics. He just gets all… hyper-focused and self-righteous and UGH! Intolerable. _

Finn has to hold back so that Rey can’t _gesture_ through his body. Even still, through her irritation, he feels her fondness. He’s having trouble disentangling his feelings from hers. He admits to himself, he is impressed that this is all going according to plan. Not a single hitch.

_ I’ll never be made for this. Finn, NEVER let me go into politics. I think I would die if I had to have these kinds of conversations. _

Finn snorts a laugh but passes it off as something dust-related when he catches some attention.

The alliance members seem to be listening, for all that’s worth. Even Poe – who hadn’t even looked at him once this whole meeting – was petting his own chin and tuning in.

Or, was he just pretending? Like Finn is. After all, they’re war generals, not… history buffs. Not world leaders.

“… so, then, what would you recommend, Master Jedi?” the magistrate asks. 

Finn’s eyebrows knit. His mind screams,  _ Hitch! We have a hitch! _

They are officially off-script.

Shit.

Ren nods. “Taking into account that every planet and system has its own needs, what could work is to align segments of the galaxy on an ‘opt in’ basis.”

Poe snorts, derisively. “Opt in…”

Ren’s voice is hard, “Yes. Opt. In. Otherwise, you’re looking at system-wide occupation again. Do you want to be like the Hutts? The new First Order? What will you call yourselves? Will ‘New Alliance’ be a code name for something more…?”

“Fascist?” CL supplies.

There is a murmur of general concern among the new alliance members. The incumbent adjutant of the local planet seems amused, waiting to see how this all plays out.

Ren snaps his fingers loudly to get their attention back. “The trick is to make the benefits of aligning  _ worth it. _ Aid, trade – money, meals – protection, peace.  _ Fairness. _ Then,” Ren makes a sphere with his hands, “Subsect the alliance into regions. The main body of the alliance remains  _ small.  _ Agile. Able to make decisions  _ quickly. _ The rest of the divisions are managed in a hierarchy in accordance with the systems’ and planets’ desired political structures.”

Someone in the alliance ponders out loud, “Subsect the Galaxy…?”

Finn ventures into the conversation. “Like pie?”

Kylo huffs, “But a sphere.”

Poe is still stroking his chin as the leaders of the ‘new alliance’ - who worked, bled and died to overthrow the First Order - actually sit and consider  _ Kylo Ren’s  _ plan on how to rule the Galaxy.

If they only knew...

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  


CL-3337 looks at the man who was once his Sovereign with  _ more than _ a bit of awe. They say that you should never meet your heroes, because they won’t live up to the hype – but Kylo Ren is better than the hype. More complex; real. Intelligent. Dangerous… yet, inside, there is softness. A softness that no one in the First Order had ever seen. Had ever been  _ allowed _ to see.

But he gets to see it now – and that one fact fills him up with a radiant sunbeam of pride.

‘Ren’ is shaking hands with the man the alliance had tried to boot from office. Well, nice try, wise-guys. There is small chatter about an election to be held soon, to give the people a true chance to  _ decide.  _ CL-3337 guesses that means they’ll still be on-planet for a while, to oversee the process.

He stretches and something else pops. Getting old sucks.

He twiddles his fingers around the silken gray threads of his braid and looks at the ones in ‘Ren’s’ hair. They’ll need to be redone soon.

Now,  _ that  _ moment in his life was diary-worthy… he can’t help but sigh aloud and think of the children’s book he could someday write. “The Day I braided the Supreme Leader’s Hair – by CL-3337”

“Hm?” ‘Ren’ says, stalking his way.

The ex-trooper is quick to hide his sarcastic remark under a genuine grin. “Trash Man has to stay back to debrief, right?”

‘Ren’ nods. 

CL-3337 claps his hands in front of himself and rubs them together fast enough to start a fire. “Good. Let’s get drunk.”

  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo isn’t staggering. He’s not. Just… not.

CL giggles and Kylo lifts a finger and puts it to his lips in the universal,  _ Shut your Godsdamned mouth  _ gesture. Halfway through the shushing sound, he cracks into a grin, and has to cover his mouth to keep quiet, himself.

“We’ve gotta gettathe ship…  _ Ren.”  _ CL snorts out his name like a joke.

Kylo really does his best to put on a stern face this time, and CL holds his hands up in surrender. They both skirt around the shipping dock to find their way to the Falcon in secrecy. Since the Jedi Master and the Co-General of the Resistance are supposed to be strangers, it would be fairly odd if the public found out that they lived together.

Chewie waves at them both once they're board but, upon sniffing them, he just chortles some sort of amused sound and walks away.

The Wookie spends entirely  _ too much  _ time on the ship, Kylo decides. He needs a vacation. “Vacation!” he shouts in Chewie’s direction, though he isn’t quite sure if his point got across.

He flops down into the common room seating in a silly huff and CL gets glasses of water for the both of them. Handing it over, the ex-trooper slurs, “This is likely one of my better ideas.”

“Getting water?”

“Getting drunk!”

Kylo giggles, taking a heavy sip and making a conscious decision to ignore the sound that he just made.

“Know what? I’m glad I came. I’m glad you let me come.” CL pats the seat beside himself with a smile. Halting, he looks a little confused. “Why  _ did  _ you let me come? I didn’t even have to  _ say _ anything.”

Kylo considers. “You didn’t have to. I just knew you should come.” He sips again. “We’re both looking for redemption, right?”

CL slips his ever-present gloves off and flexes his hands into fists, his NVR 4GET tattoos a heavy black relief on the spaces between his knuckles. The First Order insignia between the “R” and “4” looks ominous on the man’s pale skin.

CL’s voice is still slurred, “I think you would be a much better leader than those alliance guys.” He tosses back a good portion of his water, then looks at it, confused. Like he’d thought it was a shot of alcohol and was concerned when it didn’t burn.

“I gave that up. And – I wasn’t a leader, anyway. I was a…” he falters, looking for a word.

“A warrior.” CL nods.

Kylo’s discomfort settles in. He likes having his ego stroked – frankly, he’s used to it. But coming from this man… it’s too  _ genuine.  _ It carries too much hope. Hope for what, he doesn’t know.

“Why did you fall in love with Lady Rey?”

“Why do I breathe?” When CL looks at him, he shrugs the smallest bit. “It’s not a choice – it just happens.”

“Why doesn’t she love you?”

Kylo bristles and narrows his eyes. His good mood dissipates in an instant.

“Maybe she does love you – but you just don’t see it.”

Kylo grits his teeth. “Stop.”

“No, hear me out…”

“I said – stop.”

“But, if you would just–“

“ENOUGH!” Kylo roars, lifting himself with agile ease, all fuzzy pleasantness fleeing from him. His mouth pulls into a grimace. “Your turn CL-3337. Tell me, why do you need redemption?”

CL frowns, eyes on him. “I’m sorry, I went too far.”

Kylo’s voice is low and he smirks cruelly, “No, you don’t get to be the only one to ask the questions, here. Tell me.”

CL looks at the ground. “A lot of my soldiers died…”

Kylo’s smirk becomes a grin. “That’s  _ war,  _ Commander. Try again.”

CL moves to stand up, clearly upset. “I think I’ve had too much to drink.”

Kylo refuses to let this go. “Tell me.”

CL shakes his head side to side, growing fearful as the danger increases. He can feel it – like static in the air.

Kylo’s hand flies up and the trooper’s body freezes. He lets out a slight grunt as Kylo takes whatever he wants. “I see it…” he intones, dragging out the vowel sounds in his words. “I see what you did.”

CL’s eyes are wide and a single tear seeps down over the creases that have formed around his eyes with age. His grunt becomes a whimper as Kylo makes him  _ relive  _ it.

Suddenly, Kylo rears back, releasing his hold. He breathes heavily and stares into the eyes of a man who’s believed in him… and watches him crumble. CL bends at the waist and hunkers down, pressing both palms heavily to his eyes before he breaks down in a sob.

Horror doesn’t describe it. His heart is in his throat and all Kylo can think is,  _ What have I done? _

He goes down quickly, kneeling in front of CL’s heaving shoulders. “Look at me.”

And, obediently, his once-subordinate does just that.

With another hand gesture, Kylo cascades his fingers in front of CL’s face. “You will forget what just happened.”

With a shuddered breath, “I will forget what just happened.”

“We got on the ship – and you were tired. You went to bed.”

“I went straight to bed.”

Kylo nods firmly and lets go. CL’s eyes are blank and hollow. He stands slowly and, wordlessly, starts off towards his quarters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He can’t stop vomiting.

Kylo rests his head on the cold side of the ‘fresher’s lavatory before heaving once more.

How could he have done that? That man cares about him… and yet he thoughtlessly  _ took  _ and  _ hurt. _

CL wants him to be in power? Well –  _ that’s  _ what he’s like when he’s in power. He takes. And Takes. And Takes.

And Hurts.

In another fresh burst, Kylo empties the contents of his stomach.

His head wavers and he feels a pull towards faintness. It’s Rey.

No. Not now. Not after this.

Still, his head fuzzes and he begins to fade.

“No,” he hisses out loud. He lashes out, grasps a razor from the countertop and shatters the casing on the floor. He draws the blade over his arm in a quick slit and focuses in on the pain – using it to overpower her will – shutting her out.

Every time he feels her pulse within him, he draws another line until his blood runs red on the tiled floor. He’s panting, but he has to keep her blocked out. He just  _ has  _ to. 

Predictably, Finn skids into the room, eyes wide in a panic, calling his name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dread flares up inside Finn like a whirlwind. Something is wrong. Something is  _ very  _ wrong. His senses prickle and it’s like his nostrils suddenly fill with a metallic tang.

“Rey, do you feel that?”

After a small pause, his panic  _ doubles  _ as hers crashes down on his. “It’s Ren…”

He’s on his feet in a matter of moments, legs pumping as he follows the scent of blood.

“Ren? REN!”

He slides on the floor in the fresher and the first thing he can see is  _ red.  _ It takes a moment for it to click into his mind… Ren did this to  _ himself. _

Rey nearly roars inside him, jumping  _ forward  _ and crying out with his voice. She/he drops down, hands flying out to cover the gashes torn in Ben’s pale flesh. Her/his fingers press down, but the blood keeps bubbling up and over.

“What did you  _ do?”  _ Finn’s voice is not his own. “Please, oh –  _ what did you do?” _

Ren closes his eyes and tilts his head back with a heavy sigh. “I can’t go with you, tonight.”

Finn feels Rey’s heart  _ clench.  _ He’s not sure he follows – but he’s riding in the back seat now. Rey is the driver.

Light floods his body as Rey pulls from the Force and pushes it out through his fingertips. The blood remains smeared on his brown hands, but the wounds underneath them begin to stitch themselves closed. Ren lets out a small wounded sound and Finn’s heart breaks.

Rey takes Finn’s hands and pushes them through Ren’s hair. It’s soft and the man radiates heat like a furnace. Finn’s voice is gentle and lilts with a familiar accent, “Whatever you’re trying to hide from me, Ben – I won’t let you.”

Ren’s eyes fly open, but it’s too late. Rey reaches out and  _ snips  _ that all-important thread of consciousness – blacking him out into darkness…

And, once again, dragging Ren into the horror of his own dreams. 


	23. Kylo Ren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This segment heavily leverages direct quotes from the movies, but I tried to give insight into the emotions behind them. 
> 
> This chapter also directly quotes from the comic books, _Star Wars - Age of the Resistance: Kylo Ren,_ and references, _Star Wars - Age of the Resistance: Supreme Leader Snoke_ \- both written by Tom Taylor. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Taylor_(writer) 
> 
> I highly recommend reading these. Also: _Age of the Resistance: Hux,_ which does feature our main man. The writing is solid, art is great, and the backstories are enlightening.

Art by [ Ladynlmda](https://www.deviantart.com/ladynlmda) (With permission~)

  
  


_________________ 

Kylo falls – he falls for what seems like forever as he watches Snoke staring cruelly down at him from the cliff’s edge. He summons the Force, trying to stop himself from crashing down – to prove himself, like he did when this happened in real life… but he just keeps  _ falling. _ Through the pointed ground below, through a field of blood and fire, through the belly of a beast, before a gilded throne, through a walkway in the blackness, only finally landing on his feet with a harsh slam once he reaches the sands of Jakku under the night’s sky.

Rey stands beside him, eyes in front, as a dark and ominous ship descends. Its wings tilt upward like a bird of prey. All around them, the sand floats in eddies of dust that obscure the view of the stars.

There is that severe and jarring  _ disconnect  _as Kylo watches his former self, once again. 

The Jedi Killer, Kylo Ren, disembarks from his ship – haunting, his mask firmly in place. Troopers rally all around him, corralling the people who follow the church of the Force. Fires are burning as an elderly man is held before him. 

Lor San Tekka.

Kylo emotionally distances himself from this dream vision,  _ immediately. _ Without looking at Rey, he states, “This is it. This is when it will happen.”

Rey asks, breathlessly, “When  _ what  _ will happen?”

Kylo puts a wall between himself and his feelings, he is cold and empty. He looks at her with nothing but blankness on his face, “When you finally realize who I  _ really _ am.”

_ When you will leave me,  _ is what he doesn’t say.

Rey’s eyes focus in on the scene playing out in front of her.

A heavily modulated voice rings out, soft and with disdain, “Look how old you’ve become...”

The elder looks sad as he calls out, “Something  _ far worse _ has happened to you.”

Somehow, the Jedi Killer’s voice smooths out, even through the distortion. “You know what I’ve come for.”

“I know where you come  _ from _ … before you called yourself ‘Kylo Ren’.”

Voice dropping dangerously, “The map to Skywalker. We know you found it,” the monster turns slightly, stalking around San Tekka in a circle. “And now you’re going to give it to the First Order.”

“The First Order rose from the Dark side. You did not.”

Kylo stands, ever watchful, remembering his prickle of fury in that moment. This man had known him from childhood. This man  _ knew who he was.  _ No matter whether he complied with the First Order’s demands or not – this man had to die. The shameful secret of the Jedi Killer’s origin must  _ never  _ be known. It would be a weakness to be exploited.

Kylo Ren did not tolerate weakness.

Nearly hissing, “I’ll show you the  _ Dark side.” _

“You may try – but you cannot escape the truth that is your family.”

This can go no further. With almost a level of amusement, Kylo Ren’s voice is light, “You’re so right.” He raises and ignites his screaming lightsaber, lashing through the man viciously.

Dameron – Dameron had been there, but Kylo doesn’t see that now. All he sees is his former self turning towards the villagers, passing over them like ants. He simply states, “Kill them all.” His people follow his command without hesitation…

And slaughter.

The Jedi Killer pays this no mind. He’ll have their ashes gathered for his collection. His proof that he’s given everything he has to the Dark side. He must have proof… otherwise he knows he’ll feel it.

The call to the Light.

~~~~

The scene shifts and Kylo refuses to look at Rey. There will come a point during this dream where she will attack him. It’s only a matter of time; that’s her nature. She’s always been disgusted by the monster inside him… and now she’ll be  _ reminded  _ of that fact _.  _ Whether or not she’ll try to kill him again remains to be seen.

They are standing in a forest of smoke and fire. Sith occultists lash out at Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader, as he stands alone in a field of grit and mayhem.

There is a threat to his power. The Galaxy stands in his grasp and he wants  _ so much more  _ now - ever since Snoke fell over in pieces before him. But there is something – something out there in the ether.

And it’s  _ strong. _

The Supreme Leader will give no quarter in this battle on the hard-packed ground. Alone in this place – because there's no one left he trusts – the Mustafar sky hazes. He feels the  _ pull  _ of something. His Grandfather was here, once upon a time. His essence oozes from the very pores of this place. Kylo Ren takes a hold of this Darkness – and uses it to eliminate them  _ all. _

Standing amid his own carnage, covered in sweat and dirt, he feels the pull again…

… but then they fall. Kylo and Rey fall deeper. Deeper into his past.

~~~~~

The King of the Bethany race stands before a young Kylo Ren. The fledgling Darksider’s vicious need to make a name for himself is palpable to all of those around him. Cocky, overconfident… but a prodigy, none-the-less.

The enormous creature stands before him as Kylo Ren tells it, simply – “You will stop your expansion. You will submit to the First Order.”

“Why would we do that?” The creature’s tusks move slightly as its mouth turns into a taunting smile.

The young man, with so much to prove, holds his hands out in front of him and  _ pushes  _ his will. “You will  _ stop  _ your expansion. You will  _ submit.  _ To. The.  _ First. Order _ .”

There is a disdainful pause before the King lowers his huge frame to stare into that black mask. “Just saying the same thing slower doesn’t make you any more persuasive, boy. It just makes you sound  _ slower.” _

That was all the provocation he needed, the red light of his blade  _ ramming  _ through the creature’s head with no preamble. Its people screech, “HE’S KILLED THE KING!” and call for blood.

Kylo Ren gives it to them, cutting through faces and limbs and weaponry. He takes the lower appendages off of one with a single slice, grabs onto its shirt, and yanks it toward him with no small amount of pride. “Not so tall without  _ legs.” _

The negotiation has failed, but he doesn’t care. If they won’t submit in  _ one  _ way – he’ll make them submit in another. Just like his Grandfather had in decades past.

A horn blares out as the aliens attack, but his bloodlust is up – so he grins beneath his mask. Another test. Another way he can finish what Vader started. Another way he can prove to Snoke that he’s _ better _ than Skywalker. That his master will never  _ need  _ another apprentice.

He orders the troops to attack and explosions rain down all around him. The battle rages as Kylo Ren kills again, and  _ again  _ and  _ again.  _ Pushing creatures away with the sheer power of the Force within him; launching himself fearlessly into the fray. There may not be a competition pitting him against his Grandfather's historic past… but, if there was, he was going to win it.

There is a high-pitched wail that fills the air, and the Bethany cheer in a deep, cacophonous roar. A snakelike beast rises from beneath the yellowish sand, tentacle-like appendages raking at the sky, as Kylo Ren realizes that he’s experiencing the true mythos of the Bethany race…

This is their God.

Without hesitation, he screams, “FIRE!!!” 

The beast is said to be  _ unbreakable… _ but  _ nothing _ is unbreakable.

The blasts do naught, and the behemoth is attacking the First Order ships, taking them down in a blaze of glory. Understanding dawns upon the young Darksider. “The shuttle! I need the shuttle!” He recalls that the Empire had retreated at this point. Moved no further against this race of upstarts and dissenters.

But this is where Kylo Ren will press on. This is where he  _ will not fail. _ He holds himself steady in the gaping transport ramp, flying open against the smoke riddled sky. The beast is below him, maw open and waiting… so the young man takes a steep gamble…

And  _ launches  _ himself inside.

His fear propels him in ways he’s never experienced before. Organs clamp around him and the acid stings through his clothing. He can’t breathe, and terror ramps within him; he leverages it, just as he was taught. Embraces it like a lover and  _ spears  _ his lightsaber into the beast’s insides.

Cutting away and  _ slicing  _ and  _ eviscerating  _ until the beast opens like a wet fruit, spilling its blood on the ground. Kylo lifts himself from the dying body, entrails stuck to his clothes and black mask. Lifting his blade in a triumph, he screams at the cowed race,  _ “YOUR GOD IS DEAD!” _

He points his saber at the stunned crowd. “Now you worship only the First Order.”

They bow before him in supplication. Just as they should. Just as all should. This is his birthright. This is his power.

The power of the Dark side.

The scenery shifts once more and Kylo is dizzy with the movement.

~~~

Snoke sits before him on his gilded throne, and a second Rey floats in the air between them.

The  _ real  _ Rey, however, stands close behind – ever watchful – no doubt remembering this exact moment in her life.

Kylo, who is singular now, bows on one knee before the man who had become his Master. More of a father figure than Han Solo had ever been. Kylo still has something to prove. Kylo’s Master thinks him  _ useless –  _ and he will prove him wrong. A viciousness rises in him as he hears Rey scream… but he  _ must  _ let it happen. He  _ must  _ wait.

He’s always tried  _ so very hard  _ to be good at waiting.

Snoke slides the scavenger girl in front of him.

“I know what I have to do…”

The blue lightsaber sings as it stabs through his mentor and confidant. A being who knew Kylo on the most intimate level. From his shame to his exultation. Pain wells within him, but Snoke had given him no choice. He refuses to kill the girl. He doesn’t want a  _ Master...  _ not anymore.

The only voice he wants in his mind is the soothing voice of this Grandfather.

He’s destroyed his surrogate father. Just like he destroyed the real one.

He will add Snoke’s body to his collection of ashes.

~~~~~

Rey’s body  _ rocks _ as the shifting of Ben’s past hauls her along once more. A blue light seeps in around her. 

There is horror in her heart. She sees it now. She truly sees the monster inside Ben Solo. The hunger for power, the desperation, the blood lust and endless conflict. His ability to betray even the ones he loves most. His path had been strewn with choices… but, since those he loved in the Light had rejected him so cruelly, Kylo Ren had embraced all that was Dark. Trying to finally  _ belong. _

The familiar walkway stands before her. This is the fourth time she’s watched this scene unfold. In real life, in his mind from across the Galaxy, in a dream - and now... 

Han Solo stands before his unmasked son, and Ben’s… no…  _ Kylo Ren’s _ lips are trembling.

This moment still haunts him with a weight she can  _ feel, _ even when he’s star systems away.

She’d once made the promise to know him – all of him – and so she keeps that promise now. Rey closes her eyes and  _ projects  _ her mind into the man about to commit patricide.

His body…  _ her _ body is laced with the acrid sweat of panic. “The Supreme Leader is wise.”

And yet, the Supreme Leader believes that Kylo Ren will fail this test. Yet another  _ test.  _ His life is a series of  _ tests.  _ It doesn’t matter if he passes them – there is always one more. And they get  _ harder  _ and  _ harder. _

“Snoke is using you for your power. When he gets what he wants, he’ll crush you.”

It’s true. He knows it’s true. But he doesn’t want to be thrown away. He doesn’t want to let the Light in. Because who would have him then? Not his family – no matter what his father will promise. Not Snoke, who  _ will,  _ indeed, incinerate him like trash without a moment’s thought. If he’s useless… then he’s  _ useless. _

And it hurts.

Still his heart begs his father,  _ Walk away. -Run- away. _

“It’s too late…” he knows… he  _ knows  _ what Snoke wants. But he’s afraid. His father looks so much older now – but that scoundrel still lives inside him. The man he’d wanted to be. Even so, there’s only one thing that will save Kylo’s life, now. Snoke would see any failure in his mind, and meter out punishment accordingly. 

He nearly begs his father, “Will you help me?”

“Yes – anything.”

For a moment, Kylo Ren’s interior doubt ceases. He wonders if he’s been given  _ permission _ . He senses a feeling of… resignation and finality emanate from his father. Han Solo knows what his son’s choice will be. What it  _ has to _ be. But Kylo still feels his father’s hope underlying the fear. Hope that wedging something into the crack in Ben’s darkness will be enough to break him.

Still he hesitates. He holds his saber alongside his father as they both struggle for control over it. He’ll deny it later with a passion… but he thinks about the possibility of a life without pain. Without the two sides of him writhing through his body. But those in the Light will kill him… while those in the Dark will revere him.

Suddenly there is no choice to make. As his blade runs through his father, a spike of adrenaline rushes through him – quickly mistaken as  _ relief. _ Elation.

Through the wetness that shimmers in his eyes, he whispers, “Thank you.”

But when his father’s hand touches his face, he feels his soul  _ split.  _ Deeper than ever before.

Han Solo falls into the pit below, like a rag doll cast into gravity.

And he can never take it back.

He can  _ never  _ take it back.

~~~~~

Kylo and Rey watch now as the Jedi Killer stares into the abyss. Time freezes and the tableau before them melts away.

He still holds his emotions at arm’s length. He’s dreamed of this scene so many times, he could count all the lines on his father’s face. Feel every tremble of his own. Measure the seconds between words spoken.

This is it. This is where she will punish him. This is where she will  _ leave  _ him.

Her hand lashes out and grips his wrist – but he won’t fight. He has no fight left in him; not tonight.

Her fist tightens and he turns his head to look at her mournfully. He wonders what will happen if he dies in his dreams.

She is breathing hard, wisps of hair falling around her, framing her face. She doesn’t look at him. She refuses to look at him. Instead, she says, “I understand.”

His mind hitches, thoughts frozen in place.

She still won’t look at him, but her fingers lace through his.

_ “I understand.” _

And this painful dream finally ends.

~~~~~

Kylo awakens in Finn’s arms. The man’s eyes are closed and he’s snoring slightly. Dried blood cakes Finn’s hands and the floor all around them.

Pain lances through Kylo’s stomach as he clenches to sit up, his throat still raw and acidic.

His heart aches and he leans forward, dragging his hands through his hair, ruining the braiding even more. His mind is racing.

She didn’t turn on him.

She didn’t turn _ away _ from him.

_ …She didn’t run. _


	24. Lightside Quest

  
  


Art by [ MaReylo](https://www.instagram.com/p/CFE2j3TKZT9/?igshid=1rob96a0r5n5h&fbclid=IwAR3Aaqg1tuVN5UGY0fIQYXK9Ew6aIY2TPAvTPxKvRe-14CGWZSYkFHvb8p8) (With Permissions~)

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Kylo hovers in his special, secret place, caressing his heart and easing it into peace. A Holocron floats before him and he watches it, devouring it as he does  _ every _ piece of knowledge he comes across. The others are still asleep, but there are no dreams left for him tonight…

So instead, he  _ learns.  _

He pours himself into Holocron after Holocron. Jedi – Sith – it doesn’t matter, as long as it keeps him in this meditative state. The headspace where there is only him and the comforting echoes of the Force.

Where his motley crew’s heavy emotions are veiled in their deep slumber.

Where there are no eyes on him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn opens his eyes in the ‘fresher. His neck is sore, and he cricks it with a groan. He slides his eyes around the area, disoriented, not really remembering what he’d been there for. At least there’s no blood on the floor.

Finn sits up fast, putting his palms over his forehead as the memory comes back to him and he's horrified. He’s always known that Ren was dangerous – but to  _ himself? _

“Why would he do such a thing?”

_ He draws power from his pain. That’s part of the Dark side. He was pushing me away. He was ashamed. He... hates himself. _

Rey falls quiet inside him, but Finn’s chest echoes with her hurt.

“Well, to be fair, he’s not the  _ only  _ one that hates him.” He half expects her to scold him, or fill with a dark humor… but she doesn’t. A wave of depression rolls over him, instead.

_ I love him, Finn. I can’t help it. I love him so -much-. _

His eyes close and he lets out a heavy sigh. “I know. I’m not really sure  _ why  _ – but I know that you do.”

He wishes he could hug her. She’s his friend. He understands that’s all she’ll ever be – but it will never change that fact that he cares about her. Their blue thread winds between them and he turns his thoughts inward – feeling it with the Force, imagining his hand reaching out and caressing the strands.

A soothing feeling calms him. Calms her. Together, they just breathe. “It’s gonna be okay, Rey. He’ll find his way. And… I’ll help him. I’ll keep him  _ safe.” _

Tenderness spreads through him, flooding him with her warm companionship.

“But before then, I need to eat something.”

Rey’s attitude turns sly and a grin surfaces over Finn’s lips. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

A few jogging steps later, Finn storms unceremoniously into the captain’s quarters, slamming the door open and bouncing on Chewie. The Wookie growls and waves an arm to toss him off, but Finn rolls over him. His grin is almost audible.

Chewie moans, “WHAT, New Boy? WHAT!?”

Finn grips the side of the bed, beaming. “You and me? We’re going out to  _ breakfast…” _ his head flicks side to side conspiratorially as he leans in closer, _ “ _ Where are Ren’s credit chips?”

~~~~~~

Finn should have guessed that a person that works the night shift wouldn’t be at the cantina in the morning. Even so, he shoves something delicious in his mouth and Chewie does the same. On the ship, they rarely ever cook anything… and, when they do, it’s always Ren. The man can make a pretty healthy meal – sure, okay fine – but this is  _ rich.  _ This has butters and cheeses… and something that kind of oozes in a snotty way, but it tastes good, so that’s all that matters.

The place is pretty empty, and he takes a minute to scan his eyes around, taking in the lay of the land. His mouth is full, “You and me, Chewie? We’re gonna be  _ famous. _ We’re gonna go world-to-world and we’re going to do the right things. The Resistance’s work isn’t done – nuh-uh, no way! We’re gonna keep that ball rolling, yessir.”

Chewie rolls his eyes, grumbling. “New Boy is annoyingly happy.”

Finn’s cheek is stuffed with food as he chomps and smiles simultaneously. He leans in. “I met a  _ girl  _ here.”

Chewie’s head tilts to the side and gruffs out a meaningless sound, gesturing for Finn to elaborate.

“She’s gorgeous, Chewie – like, 10 out of 10!” He tilts his head closer. “And I think she  _ likes  _ me.” He nods, swallowing and waggling his eyebrows.

“Where is Potential Mate?”

Something goes down Finn’s throat the wrong way and he coughs loudly, spattering the back of his hand with some of that oozy stuff. “What…?” Maybe he heard him wrong.

“New Boy wants to mate.” Not a question.

Rey and Finn both flare with embarrassment and Finn’s skin gets hot. Even his ears.

The door opens with a creak and, speak of the devil, his Goddess has arrived. I guess she’s got the early shift, after all.

The Wookie follows his gaze and croons out, “Human 10? I’ll take your word for it, New Boy. Good hair, though,” and he shoves something green in his mouth.

Finn stands abruptly and takes advantage of the moment. There’s no CL running through the door. Ren’s hopefully somewhere not killing himself. It’s just him and her… and Chewie – but he doesn’t count.

When their eyes connect, his smile shines white and hers grows to match.

“Why, good morning General.”

He lowers his grin to face the floor, his face nearly sore from excessive use. “Finn, actually. You can call me Finn.”

She holds her wrist upwards facing him. “I’m Khoroshen’kiy. Khoro for short.”

He stares at her wrist and flicks his eyes to hers, then down again.

She giggles and grabs his arm, sliding their wrists together and locking their hands onto each other’s forearms. “You really are an off-worlder, aren’t you?”

“Oh yes – I definitely come from… off… this world.” Finn draws his lips into a line and looks away. “I totally suck at this, don’t I?”

She bursts out in a loud laugh that both takes him by surprise and charms him halfway to heaven. “Yes, I have to admit – you are  _ horrible _ at this.”

His face heats up again as Rey is chuckling at his expense. He wants to yell at her to switch off, but – again – mixed company. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to do it, much.”

“No? Generals don’t try to pick up girls?”

Finn sputters, “P-pick you up?  _ Pick you up!?” _ He snorts. Behind him, Chewie cheers his mug of caf and howls out, “New Boy wants to mate!”

Finn nearly wants to die. “You don’t understand Shyriiwook, by any chance, do you?”

She shakes her head innocently and Finn shoots a look over his shoulder at the Wookie. “Good.”

“How long are you on-planet?” she asks, biting her lips ever so slightly. Finn guesses she’s more experienced than him – but that’s kind of… well, awesome, actually.

“Probably until after the vote. You know…” He nods firmly. More than once. A few too many times, maybe. He puts his hands on his hips in something that he hopes looks heroic. “Protecting the will of the people, and all that.”

She giggles again.

_ I think you should just relax. You’re coming off as reeeeally goofy. _

Forgetting himself, he says aloud, “I’m a goofy kind of guy.”

Crapcrapcrap.

“I can see that,” Khoro chuckles. “What are you doing this evening? Other than monitoring the polls?”

Finn tips his hips side to side in a restless motion, “Maybe nothing. Why? You wanna go on a… like, a date or something?”

She beams at him. “I thought you’d never ask. Now go finish your food before it gets cold.” Her tone drops as she rolls her eyes. “It’s disgusting when it’s cold,” and winks at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo is straightening his clothes and getting ready to head off the ship when CL steps up to join him, hoisting his belt up and pulling his gloves on more snugly.

“Mornin’ boss.” CL calls out, chipperly. “Hungover?”

Kylo looks at him somberly and says nothing.

“I never get hangovers. I think that’s one of my best qualities. That and the fact that I’m washable.” The trooper flips his braid over his shoulder, eyeing Kylo with a sarcastic glare. He pauses and sighs heavily. “Alright RN – this has gone far enough. We need to do your braids over again. Come back in with me.”

Kylo is in no mood.

Even so, “C’monnnn,” CL says in a sing-song voice. “Gotta look all heroic and sexy for the Holos during the vote today, Mr. Jedi.” CL leans closer, still lilting, “I’ll let you do miiiine, if I can do youuurs.”

Kylo kind of wants to bury himself in the ground but follows the man back into the ship, regardless. 

He owes him.

Sitting on the floor between CL’s legs, he warns: “Don’t pull.”

CL scoffs, “I never-“

“Yes. Yes, you  _ absolutely  _ pulled.”

CL chortles. Kylo bristles as the man unwinds his hair but settles in for the odd feeling of being touched in this way. They sit in silence. To CL, it’s companionable as he works – but to Kylo, it’s borderline painful. He needs to say something or he’s going to crawl out of his own skin.

“I used to braid my mother’s hair.”

CL stops for a moment and leans over, trying to catch a glimpse of Kylo’s eyes. “No kidding?”

Kylo turns his head, huffing a sound as he pulls his face away from the trooper’s – which results in a sharp hair tug. Kylo growls and CL tosses his hands in the air, “You moved! Not my fault!” before he settles right back in and continues.

“I can’t do anything fancy. Just three chunks and wind ‘em up. That’s all I’ve got.”

The Darksider looks out and stares at nothing. “I used to be able to do all kinds. Really complicated ones – but it’s been so long, I probably can’t do it anymore.”

“You should practice on Rey.”

He considers, nodding his head to the side before hissing again.

CL grunts, “Ugh – stop  _ moving  _ if you don’t like it!”

Kylo settles back in and rests his elbows on his raised knees. He sighs heavily, “I owe you an apology.”

CL continues on, not pausing a moment. “What for?” letting go of the braids preemptively, knowing that Kylo’s about to move again.

He turns and eyes the trooper warily. “I wiped you… last night.”

CL decides to unwind his own thin braid to keep his fingers busy. Evidently, he was serious about Kylo doing his, too. “Did I deserve it? Whatever you wiped out of me?”

Kylo’s voice is soft. “No.”

“And you’re sorry.”

He nods.

“Okay then.” He shrugs. “Now, turn the hell around and let me finish this. Then it’s my turn.”

Kylo snorts loudly as he moves back into position.

His heart heals just a little bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chewie and Finn are rounding themselves up and getting ready to leave the cantina when Ren walks in, nodding at them slightly.

Finn looks him up and down, relieved. Ren looks… like Ren; like nothing had ever happened. For the first time, Finn actually pleased to see him and smiles. “Hey.”

Ren’s eyebrows twitch up in a silent question. Finn’s expression stays soft, but he just shakes his head. Rey doubles the tender feelings in his heart. Triples them, until he’s drowning in affection. “I’m just happy to see you out and about.”

He sees Khoro stop in her tracks and tune in to the situation. Her expression is curious. Unexpectedly - and for the first time ever - he feels a trickle of thoughts drift over to his mind. They're hers. Something like,  _ Rival. _

This is getting out of hand. He clears his throat. “We need you today, after all.”

“We’re due out in about 30 standard. The speeches will be streaming cross-planet, based in the capital here, all before voting starts. We’ll be there to make sure nothing goes  _ wrong.”  _

Finn nods. “And we’re going to make sure you’re very  _ visibly  _ helping.”

Ren nods once more, looking downward in an expression Finn has never seen from him. “I owe it to them. To the people that the First Order… affected.”

Finn floods with warmness once more – but he doesn’t know whose it is. “Yes, you do.”

Ren smirks. “It wouldn’t hurt if you were ‘visible’, too.” He flicks his eyes sideways. “Might help you with your lady friend.”

Chewie growls again, cheerfully, “New Boy wants to mate!” 

Ren’s face looks  _ so close _ to bursting into laughter and his eyes dance mirthfully on Finn’s. “Do you, now?”

Finn’s mouth drops open to say something, but Ren turns away before anything comes out. The Darksider's shoulders are shaking with restrained laughter. Finn irritatedly shoves his tongue into the side of his mouth, filling his cheek, as he puts his hands on his hips. 

So damn superior. Like  _ he  _ didn’t want to  _ mate,  _ himself.

Prick. 

  
  


~~~~~

  
  


Ren stands behind the podium, his arms crossed and folded within the long sleeves of his clothing. His hood is pulled back and his braids fall from behind his ears in (what Finn likes to think of as) a sort of ‘warrior’s style’.

Finn stands alongside him, looking less impressive, though he tries to puff out his chest as well as he can.

CL and Chewie stand amid the crowd, eyes roaming, searching for that one thing that will inevitably go wrong.

Those mercenaries still line the crowd’s edges. To prevent riots, he supposes. And, well... honestly, this crowd  _ is  _ prone to riots…

The two competing figureheads sit behind Ren and Finn, waiting for their turn at the pulpit. The crowd is already on edge. Judging from the general phrases Finn catches from the crowd, people don’t want to be here. They don’t see why things have to change. They just want their old leader back… and they’re kind of pissed at the new alliance.

This isn’t how he thought it would go.

Holo recorders float around the main arena, taking video of the crowd. Finn pulls himself just a little bit straighter, trying to embody the perfect image of a Resistance General.

Though no one cued him, Ren steps up to the stand. He pauses for a moment until all eyes are on him. 

“This is not what any of us wanted.”

The crowd hushes in reverence as he speaks, and Finn can almost feel a smugness roll off of the Darksider. A feeling of being  _ pleased.  _

“But things have changed. The First Order is gone. Your planet now has the distinct  _ opportunity  _ to choose its own path. The men behind me are both strong, with strong opinions on what strong leadership looks like. Today, you will hear from both of them – across this world. Across this  _ system.  _ And you will get to decide – today – what your future looks like. You will make your choice.

“And I am here to ensure that your voices  _ will be heard _ . And that the will of the people will  _ stand!” _

Cheers and hoots come up from the crowd, fists rise in the air and the chant of “JEDI!” starts, once more. Ren lifts his hand to silence the crowd.

He steps back and Finn steps forward, already sweating under the harsh sun. “As Jedi Master Ren says, though the new alliance wants to support you in transitioning to a different way of life – we only want to do so if that’s what  _ you  _ want, too. We are not the First Order. We will not force our way on you. The new alliance will  _ also _ stand by the will of the people.”

He steps back to more cheers – but less than Ren’s, goddamnit – and tries his best not to let the relief of being away from the podium show on his face.

The incumbent leader steps up and bows his head respectfully to both Ren and Finn. His speech is passionate. But it has... unexpected topics, from Finn’s point of view.

He vows to put the rules of the First Order back in place. That the trade routes they won will  _ stay  _ in service. That the treaties with sister First Order planets will not dissolve. That protests are welcome – but, as with the First Order, rioting will be dealt with strictly.

What ‘strictly’ means, Finn has no idea.

The cheers that rise after the man backs off the microphone are loud. Finn is floored. Why would anyone  _ want _ to be a First Order planet? Are they brainwashed? Did Snoke do some sort of collective… mind… meld… thing on all of them?

He needs to look at some of the Holocrons in the spare quarters, he decides. He has  _ no idea _ what the Force is capable of. There’s only a small handful of them – but he’s got to begin somewhere. Suddenly, he regrets having Ren toss all the Sith ones.

The alliance’s nominee steps up and pointedly only nods in  _ Finn’s _ direction.

Bad start.

This man lashes out against the harsh laws of the First Order. He speaks about the justice and prosperity that will come with the new alliance. That, once fully operational, it will open  _ more  _ opportunities to the community. He takes verbal shots at the incumbent.

“Rioting to be dealt with  _ strictly?”  _ The man scoffs, “What that really means is that it’s only a matter of time until the  _ curfews  _ come back. Locking you in; making your homes into  _ cages.” _

The crowd boos and hisses. Jeering and ramping up… which Finn thinks is exactly what this man wants to do.

“Are you  _ animals,  _ my friends? Are you  _ sheep?  _ Or are you  _ pioneers? _ Are you willing to forge a new  _ destiny?”  _ The man holds out his arms. “I say – this new way of life will make people  _ not need  _ to riot. There will not need to be such  _ control. _ There will be no need to hold  _ protests...” _

And that is the exact point in which he loses them. Cries rise in the crowd. Incredulous and angry.

The incumbent rises. “But this is our  _ culture!”  _ he yells at the nominee. “This is our  _ way!” _

The nominee folds his hands against his chest and says, “And that’s what I’m here to change.”

The crowd  _ froths  _ and screams. Hands in the air as they surround the stage. Finn bristles and looks around. 

Well –  _ this _ is going wrong.

The militia fires out shots above the heads of the crowd in warning, and both politicians duck in fear. As more ring out, the mercenaries push into the crowd, shots flashing into the sky.

_ What’s going on? This is… _

“I don’t know what’s happening… This wasn’t supposed to happen. Aren’t these the guys the alliance conscripted?" Finn’s mouth opens in shock and confusion. 

CL, weaponless, fights off a soldier with his bare hands. The nearby crowd backs off and watches the drama unfold… cheering against the militia’s man. Rallying for the ex-trooper.

Another shot rings out from outside the fight, and CL goes down, gripping his hands to his side.

“First Blood,” someone whispers – but it’s as loud as a grenade.

Finn and Ren dive into the crowd as chaos ensues.

Blasts ring out, and the mob cowers down as the militia advances.

Ren locks eyes with Finn as they move in towards the danger. He holds out his hand…

… and Rey takes it.

Finn is thrust back into the ether as he hears Rey’s thoughts ring out of his mind and straight into Ren’s.

_ Follow my lead. _

Finn/Rey’s hand flings down  _ sideways  _ with a brutal gesture and light flashes down from the sky, engulfing only the mercenaries, and  _ blinding _ them.

Barely a moment later, Ren grunts and lifts his arm _up_ and the ground beneath the soldiers begins to rumble violently, toppling them to the ground.

Finn/Rey and Ren launch forward, wasting no time, hands still clenched together.

Somewhere lost around them, Finn hears Rey’s pride.

_ You altered the environment – that’s a Light side skill. _

_ I was a Jedi Knight, once. And -you- Force blinded… that can go either way. _

_ I made it a temporary thing. _

_ Light side, then. _

They let go of each other and ignite their sabers in absolute unison. Sky blue and raging purple hum out in the air as they use their other hands to lift off masks from afar, stun people into submission… so fast that Finn can barely keep up as his consciousness floats.

The crowd is chanting, again. “JEDI! JEDI! JEDI! JEDI!” – but, this time, they’re talking to them  _ both.  _ Ren and Finn, together.

The incumbent grasps at the podium microphone, ordering the crowd to take control of the fallen soldiers before jumping into the fray, himself.

The alliance's man backs off of the stage front, trying to slink away, but Chewie stands behind him and puts a heavy paw on his shoulder, shaking his head. “No leaving,” he grumbles.

Ripping off one last mask, Kylo sees the coloration of it and notes that this creature is the squad leader. He  _ hauls  _ him up with the Force and screams, “WHY?” His hand lifts to the man’s temple as he  _ takes _ once more.

Kylo’s eyebrows twist together in rage. “You’re not from the alliance…” he hisses out, fingers clenching around nothing as he  _ pulls _ . “You STAGED this?! WHY? For what  _ purpose?  _ For  _ WHOM?!” _

Ren pushes his will into the man, and the Holos roll around them in the air, capturing everything.

The squad leader cries out, “The Hutts…”

Ren lifts his hand aways and  _ cuts  _ the creature’s consciousness. The crowd is out of control. People are getting trampled – subdued soldiers taken into custody are getting beaten. 

Ren laces his hand through Finn’s fingers once more as he and Rey  _ push  _ out a calming wave to the people through the Force. Their eyes close and the connection between them thrums like a heartbeat. 

Slowly, hands begin to lower, sounds begin to die down, minds begin to settle…

And when they finally let go of each other, Finn falls back into his own body and glares down at the unconscious squad leader. His voice is authoritative. “Take him away with the rest.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“How’s CL-3337? He’ll be alright?” Poe asks through the comm’s screen.

Finn nods. “Yeah. Rey helped me heal him. Though he’s milking it for all it’s worth.”

Poe’s eyebrows go up. “You can heal people?”

Finn lets out a small laugh.  _ “She  _ can. I can’t.”

The pilot rubs his eyes, it’s the middle of the night where he is, and he’s obviously exhausted. “Explain this to me one more time – I’m feeling a little slow.”

Finn starts, “Jedi Master Ren,” and doesn’t get far before Poe groans at the title. Finn breathes in through his nose and starts again.  _ “Jedi. Master. Ren. _ went into the mind of the squadron leader. The Hutts want to take advantage of all the First Order planets that are in chaos right now. Expand their territory. They thought that if they could add to the division and drive a wedge between the planet and the alliance, it would be easier to invade and take over.”

Poe groans and leans back in his chair. “If it’s not one war, it’s another.” The pilot leans forward, concern on his face. “And you believe him? This…  _ unfortunately _ named ‘Ren’ guy…”

Finn nods. “I can hear thoughts a little bit now. I don’t think that’s Rey – I think it might be me. Either way, he’s definitely not lying about this.” He shakes his head side to side slightly.

Lying about  _ other  _ things? Well… you know… half truths.

Poe leans forward a bit more, getting even closer to the screen. “You did a great job out there today, buddy. You’re every bit the Resistance General that we need right now. And – no matter what, we’re going to make this work. You and me, Finn. We’re going to make this Galaxy a better place.”

Finn nods, relief flooding him. “Together?”

“Together,” Poe smiles. “Keep a hold of that Force user, will ya? The alliance likes his ideas. He might come in handy for the creation of a new government.” Poe winks and reaches to turn off the comm. “Black Leader out… Co-General.”

Finn grins, nodding. “Co-General.”

The comm screen flickers off, and Finn goes to join his team in patrolling the polling stations.

~~~~~

  
  


Khoro stands with her hands linked together behind her back. It kind of… umm.. pushes out her chest, so Finn tries not to look.

“Sooo…” she starts, “You’re a Jedi, now?”

Finn grins and shakes his head. “Not really. Well - in training, I guess.”

She looks at him and pulls her hair over one shoulder, toying with it. Finn can’t help but think how much he’d like to run his fingers through that hair. Would it be as silky as it looks? 

“You’re even more of a hero now than before.”

He turns away shyly. “Oh? C’mon, now...” But then his eyes snap to hers. “Actually, I take that back. Tell me more about how awesome you think I am.”

They share a laugh, but she leans forward in all seriousness. “I mean it, though. I have friends who are Stormtroopers… well, were, anyway. They’ve been on this planet for years... and they were terrified about what was going to happen to them. They were being  _ hunted  _ – they had to go into hiding. I was so scared for them.”

Her eyes drop and she lets go of her hair, her tone serious and reverent. “Knowing that you – a Resistance General – were once a trooper. That you defected long before they ever did. That you stepped up in front of the Galaxy and made the bounty hunters stand down…” She touches his shoulder gently. “You’re a hero, Finn.”

He looks down at her lips and licks his own. Her eyes bore into his.

“General.” CL steps up with a sly grin, complete ruining the goddamned moment.

Finn backs off. “Feeling better?”

CL holds his side. “I’m not sure… maybe you should heal me again, Mr. Hero.”

Khoro laughs and Finn grits his teeth. “Nice, you’re a real nice guy – anyone ever tell you that?”

“Finn.” Ren steps over and Finn’s heart  _ throbs  _ at the sound of his voice. He spins around, eyes filled with longing, and Ren stops in place, eyeing him strangely. 

“I… ah.” He clears his throat slightly. “CL-3337 and I have decided to come with you, once the situation is under control here,” he nods, “We think it’s the right thing to do.”

Finn’s chest fills with flutters as he swoons.

SWOONS? F$#KING  _ SWOONS? _

He scrubs his hands over his eyes, clearing his head. The feeling in his chest is tamped down and the butterflies stop. “Good. That’s good. The Resistance needs all the help it can get right now.”

He pauses for effect, “Thank you, Master Ren.” The words feel funny in his mouth.

Ren nods, looks over at Khoro, and passes Finn a quick quirk of the lips before turning on his heels. CL salutes Finn slightly and nods at the woman before following in his footsteps.

Khoro leans closer in. “Did you still want to go on our date?”

Finn looks at her, pulled from his longing reverie, “Date?” A smile spreads back onto his face, “Yes. Absolutely.”

  
  


~~~~

  
  


A Dream.

Kylo opens his eyes and pulls her immediately into another memory. One of water. Just like she likes. It’s the only thing he has to offer as an apology.

Steam rises around them in the cool night air as the thermal pool stands, isolated in the cave structure around them.

Her voice is curious. “Is that water… hot?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Does it hurt?”

He smiles, still not looking at her. “It might sting for a second – but then it feels amazing.”

Her hand wraps around his and he turns to gaze at her. She still looks at him with such tenderness. How could that be? After their last dream…?

A smile blooms on her face. “Race you in!!”

And she takes off before he can even comprehend her words. Clothes on, as always, she splashes her foot into the pool, eagerly. Too eagerly. She loses her balance and crashes down, head going under water, but she’s up a minute later and  _ laughing. _

He grins. “Good?”

“Yes! Amazing!” She laughs, splashing around and ducking her looped hair under the water, buns dragging with the weight of the water.

A devilish smile comes over him as he toes off his boots and socks, walking closer to the pool’s edge. She looks up at him, smile shining – but fading quickly, as he hooks his thumbs underneath his belt and slides it off.

She says nothing. He says nothing. But, his eyes are on her as, layer by layer, his clothes come off. When it comes time for his undershirt, he turns away from her, presenting the line of his back – just like she wanted. He pushes away any feeling of shyness. He knows his body is desirable – it’s his face that was the problem. If she was willing to look at that, this would be a pleasant surprise in comparison.

His thumbs sink into the hem of his pants and he drags them slowly over his hips to midthigh, balancing quickly to withdraw his legs, but leaving his underthings on.

He turns without looking at her, stepping into the scorching liquid. There are gentle outcroppings around the edges underwater - the perfect place to perch himself - so he does just that. As far across from her as he can get. He dips his hair back, soaking it and wringing it out slightly when he emerges.

She’s smiling at him, shyly. “I like your braids.”

He lets out a short laugh, “I’ll tell CL-3337 you said so.”

She looks into the pool of water. “And I like your beard.”

He strokes it a little, bringing his fingers up to straighten the hair over his upper lip for good measure. “I’ll tell the Gods of facial hair you said so.”

She snorts, and he grins.

The water is shallow, and she slides towards him. Once she’s right in front, he can feel the push-pull of their energy all around them in the Force.

Thinking of last night’s dream, he opens his mouth to try to explain, somehow. “Rey-“

But she stops him with fingertips on his lips. She gazes down at them and all words disappear.

She leans in slowly and he moves forward to greet her. Her lips are soft, supple, and they glide over his perfectly. Her tongue reaches out and he opens for her, reaching his arms behind her back and hoisting her gently until she straddles over his lap. She sits high, so the only thing he feels is her mouth and his hands over the wet clothes on her back.

She breaks the kiss and rolls her forehead over his, eyes closed. Her voice is quiet. “I love you.”

His eyes fly open as he stares at her. He works his jaw, shocked, desperate, unbelieving. He whispers, “What?”

She leans in and takes his lips once more. When she lifts, she breathes against his mouth, “I love you, Ben Solo.”

His eyes squeeze shut and his heart aches, painfully.

It doesn’t matter – he’ll take it. He’ll take anything she’ll give him.

Her lips touch his once more as she intones, “I love you, Kylo Ren.”

He touches her face softly and pushes her back – her eyes are honest and heated. Their bond coats him in her feelings. She means it.

Oh, Gods, she  _ means  _ it.

He crashes his mouth into hers, tongue sliding in, tasting her like sugar. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Again”

_ “I love you.  _ Ben.”

“Rey, please.”

“I love you,  _ Kylo.” _

And it’s like he’s drowning. The heat of the pool cascades over him as blood rushes through his body, making him lightheaded and  _ needy.  _ He groans into her as she slides her hand up the base of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and  _ pulling. _

He lets her drag his head back to rest on the lip of the pool’s edge.

“Let me,” she begs, “just like my fantasies – please let me.”

His eyes flutter shut and he  _ submits. _

She peppers gentle kisses onto the moles of his face before bringing her mouth down to his earlobe. He hears her heavy breath as she takes it into her mouth and nibbles. She hums in appreciation and his fingers tense against her back, bringing her closer.

“You taste like fire.”

The sound of her so close makes him whimper slightly and he can feel her smile against his skin as she opens her mouth… licking a  _ stripe  _ down his neck, ending in a bite where the muscle meets his collarbone.

“Gods, Rey.”

He thinks maybe she didn’t mean to bite so hard – but he liked it. She bites him again on his shoulder, just as hard, and he curses.

Kissing his lips chastely, she smiles. “I like it better when you say my name.”

His breathing is fast; he moves up to kiss her, but she is gone again, placing her lips on the underside of his chin, over his Adam’s apple, down to his collarbone.

His hands slide down her back and cup over her backside and she breaths a small sigh. “If you touch me – he’ll make us stop.”

He lifts his hands again and puts them to his sides. She settles down her clothed hips until her heat lies against his. She gasps slightly at their connection, surprised and innocent. “Ben… what do I… what should I do?”

He tips his hips up to meet her, and hisses as she cries out. “Anything. Please – just – don’t stop.”

He remembers her fantasies as she slides her hands under his arms, curling them to cover his back. She’s licking and nipping at him again, sending little electric pulses down his body. Her hands slink through the water, sliding over him, feeling every ridge and valley – until her fingers crook and she  _ rakes  _ her fingernails down his back.

He growls and thrusts his head back, helplessly grinding up and in towards her.  _ This _ is his Rey. She doesn’t hold back – and she doesn’t play  _ nice. _

“K-kylo” she sputters and he instinctively bucks into her again with a harsh sound. She’s fulfilling a dark fantasy he didn’t even know he had…

Her tongue is in his mouth again. She smiles against his lips once more, “You like that, don’t you…  _ Kylo _ ?”

He curses again, glaring at her with unbridled lust. She kisses his forehead, “You’re mine.” In his hairline, “Every part of you.” Over his eyelids, “Every Dark dream.” To the tip of his nose, “Every lonely night.” She tips his chin up to kiss him once more, “All of you, Ben. Every. Single. Piece.”

“I love you,” he breathes out. She leans in,  _ grinding  _ herself against him in the process, making him whimper a little. He bites his lip, opening his eyes to watch her – to see those looks on her face.

She pants, “Say it again.”

His hands slide over her throat, leaning her back so he can watch her. Her eyes are slammed shut and her lips are parted. His voice is low with an edge to it,  _ “I love you.” _

She rides down upon him once more and he fights to keep his eyes open, feeling her swallow against the soft grip of his hands. “I ache again, Ben. It hurts.”

“I want to see you,” he begs, “please let me see you.”

Her eyes still closed, she fumbles with the latches on her belt. Once off – she grabs at her wrappings, but he stops her. When she looks at him, his jaw is tight. “Slow,” he commands. “Eyes on me.”

And she does what she’s told. Dark fire burns within him. Her fingers slide down his chest and over his abs until they come to rest on her thighs. She grips the wet fabric and unwraps herself like a gift. She does her arm bands next, all while looking directly at him, though  _ his  _ eyes wander.

Her undershirt is white, soaked through and nearly see-through. Two small peaks rise up from the swells of her breasts and his mouth waters. She goes to take it off, but he stops her.

“If this stays on – then maybe it doesn’t count as touching you…” he intones, drifting himself over to hover against her chest. His eyes bore into hers like a challenge – one she meets by arching her back, and then his hot mouth is on her.

The water in her clothes is salty, and it heightens a thirst within him. He works his mouth over her – listening oh-so-closely for the pattern of her breath to change, for her body to move, for her hips to tilt. If nothing else, Kylo is a scholar – and right now, he’s her student. Learning the secrets of her body.

His tongue flicks against the hardness in his mouth and she cries out softly. Intrigued, he drags his teeth over it and she hisses. He nips lightly and she  _ squeaks  _ his name. His hands engulf her, and her breast all but disappears under his palm. A certain pride and sense of power flows through him – but then she takes it right back.

She thrusts her hand down in between them and grasps at him through his clothes. His breath catches in his throat and he leans back from her once more, panting, begging, tilting himself to rub against her.

Her eyes are hot with want, and glint with control. “Is this where you ache, Ben?”

At a loss for words, he nods.

Her hand grips tight, too tight, and he grunts. “Say it.”

“That’s where I ache,” he pants. “That’s where I want to be naked against you. I want to fit you onto me like a puzzle piece and…” his breath hitches as she starts to move her hand… perfectly, “and…” he groans.

She stops and he nearly laughs at her cruelty. “…and?”

He stares at her again. Perfect. She’s. So. Perfect.

He loops his hands under her backside again and lifts her up over his standing frame, pushing into her center. She cries out and gasps, holding his shoulders and tilting her body backwards to deepen the contact.

He hoists them from the pool, laying her on her back on the cool stone, their bodies steaming from both the heat of the water, and their desire. He plants his hand firmly on either side of her head and  _ snaps  _ his hips, slamming against her soaking pants as she  _ moans. _

“Please...”

“You’re mine,” he whispers against her ear, pummeling into her again. She’s trembling and he bites her, softly. She pulls him to her mouth and returns the favor; he winces as he tastes his own blood, but her tongue is too far down his throat for him to care. He falters and drops on top of her, propped by only his elbows. She’s kissing his neck again, “We fit together. Someday,” he pauses as her teeth graze him, “someday I’ll show you.”

She links her feet over his backside and thrusts herself up at him, whining with need.

“Show me now… Please.  _ Please, Kylo.” _

Oh, Gods – how he wants her.

He wants her.

He wants her  _ forever.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Blinding Lights” - The Weeknd ← Please listen to this and think of Kylo’s feelings toward Rey. I’ve decided it’s this series’ theme song. :D
> 
> Yeah, I been tryna call - I been on my own for long enough  
> Maybe you can show me how to love, maybe  
> I'm going through withdrawals - You don't even have to do too much  
> You can turn me on with just a touch, baby  
> I look around and Sin City's cold and empty, No one's around to judge me  
> I can't see clearly when you're gone  
> I said, ooh, I'm blinded by the lights - No, I can't sleep until I feel your touch  
> I said, ooh, I'm drowning in the night  
> Oh, when I'm like this, you're the one I trust  
> Hey, hey, hey  
> I'm running out of time - 'Cause I can see the sun light up the sky  
> So I hit the road in overdrive, baby  
> Oh, the city's cold and empty, No one's around to judge me  
> I can't see clearly when you're gone  
> I said, ooh, I'm blinded by the lights - No, I can't sleep until I feel your touch  
> I said, ooh, I'm drowning in the night  
> Oh, when I'm like this, you're the one I trust  
> I'm just walking by to let you know, I can never say it on the phone  
> Will never let you go this time  
> I said, ooh, I'm blinded by the lights  
> No, I can't sleep until I feel your touch


	25. Finn's Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one minds, but I had to up the chapter-count by two. I have some good content and dangling threads I want to tie up nicely. Thinking that two extra chapters should do it - but I hope that doesn't irritate anyone :D 
> 
> The first section of this chapter contains brief homo-eroticism. Nothing happens, but if it's not your thing, skip the first segment. You'll pick back up into the story thread fairly easily.

  
  


Art by [ Qissus](https://www.deviantart.com/qissus/gallery)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oomph,” Finn puts his face into the pillows. His body is too hot and he’s raging hard in his pants. He works his hand down and grasps himself firmly. Thinking of her – her black, silk hair. Her almond shaped eyes, the lilt of her accent.

Strong arms, muscular back… Finn groans into himself. Mournful eyes, eyes that mirror the hurt inside – even when the rest of his face doesn’t show it.

Finn hand pumps and a name is on his lips…

_ Ben. _

His eyes open wide and disgust floods him. He takes his hand off himself and flicks it to the side, as if that would wipe off any of his unwanted thoughts.

He gasps and he throbs. It’s them – he  _ knows _ it’s them. He flops down on his bed again, knowing he should get up.  _ Knowing  _ he should stop them… but he just feels so  _ good. _

He sits there for a long minute, feeling an ache in a part of his body that doesn’t actually exist, running his fingers over his length and squeezing his eyes shut.

But enough is Enough.

Finn launches from his bed and strides into the med-bay. When they're like this, he always has to  _ physically  _ wake Ren up. If he doesn’t slap the guy around – he’ll just happily stay in whatever dream he's in; likely a dream where he's rutting against Finn's  _ best friend. _

He flicks on the light in the quiet ship but freezes when he sees what lies before him.

Ren is on his back with his neck arched as far as the mattress would let it go. His lips are parted, pale face flushed pink, and his Adam's apple bobs. His fists… his  _ enormous  _ fists grasp at the bed frame as his hips _ tilt. _

__

Ren lets out something like a growl, and Finn feels it to the bottom of him, making him throb uncontrollably. The Darksider sensually turns off of his back, fingering his lips as he whispers non-words. His voice is low and gravelly.

__

Finn draws towards the bed, slowly, unable to look away. Close enough to feel the heat from Ren’s skin and smell the scent of his body. Ren slowly, softly starts pressing himself into the surface of the cot. He groans once more, and his dark hair falls over his brow.

__

Finn finds he wants to run his fingers through it.

__

His eyes are half lidded as he watches Ren’s hips rock, punctuated by sighs. He can see the tent of the man beneath the blanket, and suddenly he wants to be  _ beneath  _ him. He wants to tip his hips so that they connect – soft… then hard… then…

__

No.

__

NO.

__

NO!

__

This has to  _ stop.  _

__

This has to stop  _ Now. _

__

__

~~~~~~~~

__

__

It’s like someone douses him with a bucket of cold water when Finn throws the sheets off Kylo and screams, “ENOUGH!”

__

Kylo shoots up in bed as Finn furiously stomps over to Rey’s and does the same, tearing the blankets from her still body and throwing himself into a seated position beside her, laying his hands over her temples.

__

Kylo’s astonishment rises to fury – but Finn’s eyes glare at him vengefully and hold him at bay.

__

The man’s voice is heavy and broken, “We can’t do this anymore! Rey,  _ I can’t do this anymore!” _

__

Kylo senses the man’s intention howl into the Force around him. Horror floods him as he feels Finn reach for that blue thread…

__

“Finn, don’t,” Kylo's voice is raw. 

__

……… that blue threat that winds Finn and Rey together... 

__

“Finn – I’m begging you…” Kylo pleads.

__

…………… and irrevocably  _ severs _ it.

__

Pain  _ rips  _ through Kylo’s body as he feels it project through Finn; the man crumbling to the floor in a wailing cry. 

__

Kylo is on his feet in a moment, grasping at Rey, moving her face in his hands. Panic lances through him like lighting. He can’t feel her – he can’t  _ feel  _ her. 

__

“What did you do, Finn?  _ WHAT DID YOU JUST DO!?” _

__

Finn is doubled over himself, heaving on the ground – but Kylo can’t be bothered with him right now.

__

He passes his fingers over her cheeks, her eyes, “Rey… Rey, baby – reach out to me.” He caresses the pads of his calloused thumbs over her closed eyelids. “Please – come on, Rey…  _ please.” _

__

He slides himself to his knees on the floor next to Finn, snatching the man’s hand and lacing their fingers together, white against brown, “Please,  _ please,  _ Rey. Please say  _ something.” _

__

But he hears nothing… except for Finn’s sobs. 

__

  
  


__

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__

  
  


__

Finn can barely feel anything anymore. No thoughts from people – no feelings.

__

No connection to Rey.

__

He tried to open one of the Holocrons – just to see… but it didn’t do anything. It just sat there, as useful as a rock.

__

It hurts. There is a gaping wound inside him and he can’t stop crying. CL doesn’t understand, and Finn can’t find the words to tell him; yet the trooper has gone out of his way – bringing him cool towels from the ‘fresher, checking in now and again.

__

But Finn doesn’t feel like talking.

__

Finn doesn’t feel like  _ anything. _

__

Ren won’t speak to him. Why would he? Even Finn wouldn’t speak to himself, right now.

__

“Rey…” he calls out again, softly. Tears roll out of his eyes once more as he curls into fetal position on his bed. “I’m sorry… I’m so  _ sorry.” _

__

He’ll be useless in close combat now. He has no lightsaber skills worth mentioning. God knows he hadn’t let Ren teach him. He’ll have to rely on his marksmanship. But, was his skill just always derived from his connection to the Force? Or was his connection to the Force always from  _ Rey? _

__

He has no idea.

__

Ren sits vigil over her – but Finn knows they need to be onsite for the vote readout. He rolls over, lifts his heavy body, and drags himself to the ‘fresher.

__

Because the show must go on.

__

__

__

~~~~~

__

__

The incumbent won. It wasn’t even close. Kylo wants to feel smug about a First Order world wanting to  _ stay _ a First Order world – but honestly, he doesn’t care anymore.

__

Rey is still in there. Whatever Finn did – it won’t end her stasis… but it  _ will _ ruin their ability to battle together. Their ability to leverage her intensity… to let her speak through Finn.

__

He should have seen it coming. He sensed the desire. It had been rolling off Finn for days now and, at first, Kylo knew it came from Rey… but then things got… muddy.

__

If the roles were reversed, what would he have done? Likely the exact same – only he would have done it sooner. He can’t fault him.

__

But he can fault himself.

__

He had known better.

__

It was just like Snoke said.  _ That…  _ made you make foolish decisions. He really is a  _ Stupid Boy. _

__

Not that he’ll let that sentiment stop him at this point. No, he’s too far down that rabbit hole. But… will they still be able to dream?

__

His heart sinks.

__

He begs the Force,  _ please – I won’t touch her anymore… just – please don’t take her away. _

__

The cheering of the crowd brings his attention back to the stage.

__

“… and because of the alliance’s support in rallying against the threat of the Hutts, we will remain in close coordination with them, moving forward. Our rules are our rules. Our laws are our laws. But that doesn’t mean that a partnership can’t exist between us. That doesn’t mean that we can’t work for each other’s mutual benefit. Symbiotic, flexible and  _ fair _ . Our sister planets from the fallen First Order will also be a part of this alignment – so we stay strong  _ together.” _

__

The crowd rallies in celebratory cries. Kylo assumes that, as long as they got what they wanted, they didn’t give a damn about any cherries placed on top.

__

He snorts to himself – the Resistance is implementing his idea, already. They’re letting planets opt-in. They’re going to subsect the Galaxy.

__

He should get a commission check for his service.

__

“… it’s with all thanks to the Resistance General, Finn…”

__

The crowd cheers, raising up their open hands in welcome instead of fists. Finn nods solemnly, accepting his praise with grace; holding an arm out, parallel to the ground, his wrist exposed to the sky. 

__

“…and Jedi Master, Ren who fought for the voice of our people!”

__

And the crowd goes wild, banners flying…

__

But Kylo hates everything right now. 

__

Even the adoration of the masses.

__

__

__

~~~~~~

__

  
  


__

Finn drinks at the cantina alone. Chewie threw credits at him and told him to stay away for a bit – and that was probably for the best. 

__

He hasn’t really drank in a while. Not since Jannah had put it all into perspective for him – but today is a day for drinking. 

__

Gods help him – today was a day for a memory wipe.

__

But, instead, he’s getting nice and sloshed. He’s putting that on the short list of priorities. The drinks aren’t all that bad, either. Khoro works at a fiiiiine place. 

__

He eyes the bar, she should be joining in a bit. She’s off today, but they’d left last night hanging with a promise of another date. He’d like to see her. He’d like to look at someone the way Rey made him look at Ren. 

__

Suddenly, he feels like crying again.

__

A hand slides over his shoulder in a slightly suggestive way. He smiles, but it’s half hearted.

__

“Hey there, Hero,” he can hear the smile in her voice.

__

“Why, hello there, stranger.” He turns to face her.

__

Her look of amusement falters as soon as she sees him. He can only imagine what he must look like after crying all day. He hopes they didn’t get that on the Holos they took earlier. 

__

She leans in and touches his arm. “Do – do you want to get out of here?”

__

He turns back to the bar. “Nope.” He pops the “p” sound at the end of the word. “I would like to get nice and drunk and I would like you to join me. I will more than happily pick up your tab.”

__

She smiles again, but it’s a little bit tight. “What’s wrong, goofy guy?”

__

“My friends call me the Trash Man,” he lifts his drink to his lips.

__

She giggles out the word, “What?”

__

“Because in the First Order, I was a sanitation worker.” He peels at the bottle in his hands. “And I defected partly because I was about to get in trouble.  _ And  _ I tried to escape the Resistance… twice, because I was afraid.” He drinks once more.

__

He huffs a laugh at himself, self-deprecating. “But I did get them to call off the bounties.” 

__

Tossing back another slug, he looks at her, eyebrows up. “Oh – and I also took down a Dreadnaught while riding some weird kind of animal.” His stare gets vacant. “… can’t remember what it was called, though.” He shrugs and goes back to peeling his bottle.

__

Khoro sighs with a smile. “Ooohhkay. I get it. Tell me what happened.” She sits down and turns her knees under the bar, deciding to take the invitation to stay.

__

Finn sulks.

__

She tilts her hips on the chair until they bang into him on his side and he smiles a bit.

__

“I lost a friend today. Two… probably.” He drinks again, realizing it might be a little odd to consider Ren a ‘friend’. Maybe more like an irritating, violent, overbearing, overconfident… brother. Yeah, that’ll work.

__

Khoro’s face is sad on his behalf. “What happened?”

__

“I ruined something. My friends were…” he grits his teeth and talks through them, “Well they were  _ really  _ pissing me off… but I overreacted. Now – one hates me and the other one… went away.” His eyes prickle.

__

Her thumb rolls over his shoulder again, firmly, giving comfort. Finn closes his eyes – he really  _ misses  _ physical contact. He and Rey were constantly diving into each other for hugs. Poe would see him and just  _ grab _ him, clapping him on the back for good measure. It dawns on him again how  _ lonely  _ he is.

__

He tips his cheek down and rests it on the back of her hand. “Thank you. I’m glad you're here tonight.”

__

She smiles suggestively, “I’ll stay with you until you have to go off-planet, if you want.”

__

Finn laughs, but he’s not that guy. He shakes his head and tells her so. She pouts a bit, and he finds her adorable.

__

“Can I buy you a drink?”

__

She shakes her head. “No – I’m running zhalluong tonight, evidently.”

__

“Allawhat?”

__

She smiles. “It’s one of our local, ‘non-Basic’ words. It just means: I’ll be there to hold your hair back when you throw up and cry later tonight.”

__

He smirks at her. “You’re incredibly romantic, has anyone ever told you that?”

__

She blinks at him repeatedly with fluttering eyelashes and makes him laugh again.

__

“There you are. There’s my goofy guy.”

__

He can’t help but wonder – why does he always get such terrible nicknames?

__

__

~~~~~

__

__

Kylo is about to walk on the ship, but CL stands in his way. Quirking an eyebrow, he tilts his body to try to move around him… only to have CL step in his way once more.

__

Kylo sighs and widens his stance. “What?”

__

CL runs his tongue in the space between his lip and his bottom teeth. “I need your help. I, like, seriously need your help.”

__

Kylo straightens up slightly, nodding for CL to go on.

__

“You can read minds – right? What am I talking about, you can totally read minds, that was a stupid question.” CL keeps his eyes on the ramp and taps his foot uneasily.

__

“… and?” Kylo says.

__

“Can you, like… can you reach out there and see if there’s a brothel or something?”

__

Kylo’s eyes widen in shock. “I’m sorry…?”

__

CL puts his hands on his hips and bites the inside of his cheek. “Look – we’re both  _ guys  _ – so you get it, right? Sometimes you just have a little… extra juice in the tank… and you wanna just…” CL curves his hands around thin air and shakes them a bit making a grunting sound.

__

Flabbergasted isn’t even the word.

__

CL’s frustration only grows. “Look, RN – I’m  _ older,  _ okay? And when you get  _ older,  _ part of you starts to… well, DIE down there. But last night, man – I was having these  _ dreams.  _ These intense goddamn  _ dreams  _ and it’s like my body woke up. I can’t calm down! Even during fricken’  _ political speeches!” _

__

Kylo crosses his arms and puts a hand over his mouth to hide the grin blooming on his face. “This started last night?”

__

CL looks away, nodding fast and biting his lips.

__

“And this doesn’t happen to you?”

__

He scoffs, “Not for like… what, 5-10 years.”

__

It’s all too clear what happened. Apparently, he and Rey were… projecting… last night.

__

Something inside him goes -  _ snap! _

__

Kylo laughs. 

__

And laughs… 

__

...and  _ laughs. _

__

CL’s eyebrows pull down, irritated. “Look – it’s a totally human thing to feel, right?”

__

But Kylo can’t stop laughing. He waves his hand as if to silence the trooper, but has to bend over at the waist. He can’t stop – it’s like decades of unused laughter chose  _ this moment  _ to pour from him. Kylo tries to stand up… but he looks at CL’s face…

__

And doubles over in gales again.

__

Chewie comes out of the ship, stepping onto the ramp, moaning out, “What?”

__

Kylo bursts – he can’t even look at the Wookie. All he can imagine is the wet dream he likely gave his uncle last night and he  _ slaps  _ his thigh. Oh Gods, he can’t breathe. His face hurts – his sides and belly hurts and little tears are welling up in his eyes.

__

His grin is so wide that the dimples are carving out their own spaces in his cheeks. He can’t stop… oh, man, he can’t stop.

__

They’re looking at him like he’s crazy… but he decides he doesn’t care. After all… 

__

He’s among friends.

__

__

__

~~~~~

__

__

Her hair is  _ definitely  _ just as silky as he’d imagined.

__

_ Definitely. _

__

“You’re so Priddy,” Finn leans on her, petting her hair with hands that are likely too heavy.

__

Khoro, bless her heart, is enjoying this situation.

__

“Like, the minute I saw you… I was just like… wooooowwwww.”

__

She laughs her angelic laugh and loops her arm through his as he stumble-walks through the empty city plaza.

__

“Tell me what ya thought about me. I wanna hear what ya thought about me.”

__

She hums for a while, thinking. Turning to face him, she clasps his hands in hers, and steps close to him. “I recognized you  _ immediately _ .”

__

“Oh  _ really?” _ he tugs her in a little closer.

__

“And I thought you were very handsome.”

__

His voice gets softer. “Oh,  _ really?” _

__

She nods.

__

“What part of me did you like the best?” He grins.

__

“Your mouth.”

__

He snorts. “Well, I  _ am  _ a bit mouthy – I swear, it’s hard for me to shut up sometimes.”

__

She smiles out a breath and catches hold of his chin. “No, Finn… your  _ mouth. _ Your lips. I wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you.”

__

Finn suddenly feels 10% more sober. Which might not be saying much – but it’s certainly saying something.

__

He pulls her in, drawing his elbows back to make her step even closer to him. She’s so near now that Finn is almost afraid. He doesn’t really know how to do this.

__

Her voice is sweet, “At first, I didn’t think I’d get to… because you were so shy.” Finn smiles a little. “Then I thought I might have a shot – but I figured it wasn’t in the cards.”

__

Finn breathes out, so close to her now. So. Very. Close. “Why would you think that?”

__

“I thought you were in love with Ren…”

__

_ Damnit, Rey. _

__

“Absolutely not,” is all that leaves Finn’s mouth before he swoops down and kisses her. Fiercely. All the touch starvation in him calling out for her. He lifts his hands and places them on either side of her face, holding her there.

__

When she puts her tongue in his mouth, he almost backs up – unsure what it was – but once he catches on, he  _ dives  _ in with all he’s worth.

__

Breathless, he steps back, and she ducks down to put her head on his chest. He slides his hand through her hair once more. “That was...”

__

“Perfect,” she sighs into him. “I’m so happy I got a chance to do that.”

__

Finn grips her tightly. “Yeah. Yeah - me too.”

__

He rocks a little on his heels and she holds him tighter with a giggle. “Alright you, let’s get you back to your ship. Since you won’t have a tryst with me, I might as well get you home.”

__

He hiccups. “Who said I wouldn’t have a tryst? I most certainly never said I wouldn’t have a tryst.”

__

She laughs at him, pushing him a bit. “Go home, Finn – you’re drunk.”

__

And he feels like he’s heard that line before.

__


	26. Memory Lane

This chapter had art by [Kasiopea](https://kasiopea-star-wars.tumblr.com) but I'm making sure that I get permissions to use the artwork before leaving it here. :)

_________________

The view screen is on in the common area, and ‘Team Jedi’ is assembled around the live image of the new alliance. Finn has no idea what their names are – though he supposes he’ll figure it out, eventually. Poe is the only one who ever asks questions, anyway. The rest of them just… like to hear themselves talk.

But now – it was  _ his  _ turn.

“Yes… I’m thinking of a sort of reintegration program for the ex-troopers. A lot of them are still in hiding, and we need to make an effort to pull them back into the community. If we don’t – people like the Hutts or Crimson Dawn might grab them, just to have the extra hands.”

“And guns,” CL adds.

Poe joins, “And potential Force users – since Finn, Jannah,  _ and _ Ren seem to have picked that up along the way.” He still sounds more than a bit condescending. 

Ren just nods, hands clasped behind his back and a wide stance.

CL grins once more. “And I’m just awesome, with or without the Force.”

Finn closes his eyes and sighs.

Behind Poe, a teal colored Chagrian mentions, “There is a planet directly in the vicinity of one of the mutinied Star Destroyers. I can only assume many of the defectors had to escape there. It’s mid-rim – less developed. Easier to hide. No social tracking systems.”

Poe quirks an eyebrow. “Sound interesting to you guys?”

Finn smiles. “Absolutely.”

“Alright then. I’ll get you the specs on the planet, as well as anything we know about the ship they might have torn apart.” Poe starts queueing things up on his side. “And buddy?”

Finn hums a question mark.

“Excellent plan.”

~~~~~~~~

Ketzali. High-priority. Mid rim and  _ just  _ outside of Hutt space. Mostly Devaronians, Ishi Tibs, Humans, and Muun. An… eclectic mix. Sprinkle in a few Hutt vacationers, as well. Just for variety’s sake.

Kylo sighs. They’ve been traveling for days – but he’s had no dreams.

He wonders if she’s lonely. No one to talk to, no one to watch through. Maybe she’s been put on another ‘spiritual quest’ by the Force… but that was likely just wishful thinking. Finn had cut the connection… and it seems Kylo has only gotten to  _ her _ through  _ him _ . 

He misses their live bond, as volatile as it has been.

He’s not angry; just depressed. Hollow. Longing. Much like his early years, he supposes. Always waiting for someone to look at the real him. Notice him. 

Stay.

He’s so _ tired _ of waiting.

He stands behind CL and his uncle, Finn at the front, as the ramp to the Millennium Falcon lowers down to a dense forest’s edge. CL turns back to him and companionably punches him on the shoulder. Kylo only grumbles a little. Since their hair-braiding ritual began, CL touches him _ all the goddamn time._ He’s mostly given up complaining about it. 

Mostly...

He’s also perfected redoing the man’s rattail, moving on to more complicated patterns in Rey’s hair. He sits with her before he goes to sleep every night and tells her stories; every fairytale he can remember from his youth. Every historic battle where a Sith turned Jedi – or vice versa. He prays that it will reach her, to help her in case she’s lonely for him. Like he is for her.

Being around people doesn’t mean you’re not isolated. Especially when you’re used to omnipresent voices in your head, picking through all your secrets.

The forest is dense, and life is everywhere. Kylo can feel it; hear it. The scent of ozone and something sweet lingers. Moisture drips from the leaves and collects in lush purple flower buds below, making little tide pools for beautifully colored insects to land on and sip from. 

It’s breathtaking. Rey would love it. He’ll be sure to bring her here… if they ever get to dream again.

“We picked up the heavy life signs deep to the northwest,” CL notes.

Finn groans. “I literally said that before we left the ship. Like,  _ literally.  _ Those exact words.”

“I live to irritate you – haven’t you learned that by now?”

Chewie grumbles out something to the effect of, ‘Soldier lives to irritate everyone.’

CL turns over his shoulder and scolds, “How many times do I have to tell you not to talk shit about me?”

Finn snorts, moving some bushes aside. “You don’t even understand him.”

“No… but a smart man  _ knows  _ these kinds of things.”

“Let me know when you find a smart man, then.” Finn grins over his shoulder, only for CL to give him a good  _ BAF  _ off the side of his head.

“Can it, Trash Man.” There is an audible pause while no one says anything. CL pouts. “Get it? ‘Can it’… ‘Trash Man’? Because you put trash in a......................... I hate all of you.”

Kylo huffs a laugh and CL beams at him. Sometimes he thinks the man makes it his mission in life to amuse everyone. He admits, sometimes – just  _ sometimes  _ – it works on him.

They walk along in silence for a bit, just the sounds of cracking twigs, chirping things, and the scuttling of small animals that do not appreciate their presence. CL slings his super-sized blaster over his shoulder. Ever since he got shot, he doesn’t want to go without.

After a handful of minutes, Kylo snaps his fingers loudly, getting everyone’s attention. He closes his eyes, breathes in to open his senses, then points left. “But we have to announce ourselves, first. Otherwise, they’ll try to kill us.”

“Just don’t try to kill them back, Ren.”

Kylo rolls his eyes.

CL shouts authoritatively, voice crisp and ringing in the air, “My name is CL-3337. I’m here with RN-2186, FN-2187, and a Hairy Monster that I can’t describe to you properly.”

Then Chewie takes his turn,  _ BAF _ -ing CL.

Kylo’s voice follows, “FN-2187 is also known as a General of the Resistance. He defected early on, after the slaughter at Jakku. He led a team to take down a Dreadnaught during the fall of the First Order on Exegol.

“He has also worked to remove the bounty on all Stormtroopers with the help of the newly forming Galactic Alliance. You are no longer being hunted. You are all safe, now.”

There is rustling in the tree line ahead, and the team braces for whatever comes next. A female voice cuts through the silence, “What do you want with us? How do we know you’re not lying? It’s not just hunters who come after us… there are many people who want revenge against the First Order.  _ Many _ people who want to see us dead.

“So, tell me one good reason I should believe you and one  _ more  _ good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you just for the hell of it.”

CL looks at Finn who shakes his head with wide eyes. Chewie growls and shrugs.

It’s Kylo who decides to answer. “I don’t think anything we say will satisfy. How about you just keep your guns on us and at the ready.”

There is a pause and some hushed chatter passes through the air.

The woman’s voice rings out again, “Fine.”

~~~~~~

Finn’s only seen one other trooper encampment before – but it seems like they both had… decorative ideas for the Stormtrooper helmets. These line the haphazard gateway like discarded skulls, each holding red handprints. It reminds Finn of himself, not too long ago.

The woman looks harsh. A bit older – but still someone who would kill you in an instant. Her gun is pointed directly at Chewie, determining him to be the biggest threat in the group. 

Not entirely correct – but a good try.

CL, “You all took down the Star Destroyer, Annihilation?” The man trained on CL nods. “I helped take down the Overseer, myself.”

Another man tips his gun at Finn. “And you?”

Finn shrugs. “I didn’t know its name. I just, you know, blew it up a little bit.”

Another lithe woman digs her gun into their resident Darksider. “How about you, big fella?”

Ren snaps his hand out and slaps the blaster away. He pauses, and Finn thinks he won’t answer at first, but he does. “I killed the Knights of Ren.”

Finn chuckles, “And then got your ass handed to you by Palpatine.”

Ren narrows his eyes and uses the Force to  _ BAF _ Finn this time, sending his head bobbing forward harshly. They’re like a goddamned comedy troupe. All the soldiers’ eyes go wide as they swivel their guns solely at Ren – nearly in unison.

“You have the Force?” the elder woman nearly hisses.

Ren cocks an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”

The woman’s lips pull downward, and she lowers her weapon. The others aren’t so convinced. “Anyone else have it?”

Finn’s voice is quiet, “A teeny-tiny bit.”

She nods roughly. “Prove it.”

Finn works his mouth. “I think I kind of broke it. I feel some of the animals around… and I feel that you guys are pretty freaked out, but that’s about it.” He shrugs. Still better than a week ago, though.

One of the men with his gun still raised aggressively swivels it left to right, pointing at each of them in turn. “Why. Are. You. Here?”

CL grins. “Because... you still have a job to do.”

~~~~~~~

All in all, it wasn’t too hard to convince them. Seems they were bored – bored of the jungle, the bugs, the rodents they were eating… and each other, if truth be told. There were too many in too small an encampment, and their First Order supplies had more-than run out at this point.

Only the one was Force sensitive; hardly more than the New Version of Finn, though.

Kylo thinks, sarcastically,  _ Seems the Jedi Killer wasn’t doing his job very well. Couldn’t even clean his own house. _

Now, Finn's off to meet the local leadership again to continue discussions on the possibilities available for the troopers within the community. Chewie's back on the ship – because he never wanted to be anywhere else, evidently. And CL wandered off, saying he found that brothel he’d been looking for.

Kylo had closed off his passive link to the man’s mind immediately. Though it was oddly nice to know he’d fixed  _ something _ that was broken.

He can’t help but smirk to himself.

Suddenly, he bristles – catching the wisps of someone’s train of thought. He turns around to face a man, several streets down, walking towards him with a beat-up hat of sorts in his hand. He has a defeated look about him.

“It’s you…”

Kylo lets the fingers of his mind trail over the man’s thoughts. He means no harm – but Kylo doesn’t feel like digging deeper than that.

“How do you think you know me?”

“From the Holos,” the man is near star-struck. “You’re the Jedi Master.”

He says it with a level of reverence that sinks Kylo’s mood again. He must have seen the footage from, what they’re calling, the ‘Fallen First Order’ worlds – all worlds that wanted to keep their current FO rules and planetary leaders in place.

Truth be told, it was only a very small percentage. It seemed to only be the original swath of systems that submitted to the Order early, and with no reservations - nearly a decade ago at this point. They’d all been in different stages of civil unrest when they were absorbed – and the First Order had rectified that.

The ones who weren’t going to remain in the FFOs were now experiencing their own... civil unrest _. _ Infighting, power grabs, military coups… 

But that’s Dameron’s job, and Kylo is happy to leave him to it.

The man sounds tentative, “You… you  _ are  _ the Jedi Master, aren’t you? Master Ren?”

Kylo sighs softly through his nose. “Yes.”

The man smiles. “Can I see your lightsaber?”

Kylo huffs. He’s not sure why he decides to entertain the idea, but he does. He takes the hilt in his hand, bouncing it to feel its comforting weight. Eyes on the man for a moment, he takes in his interest and feels vaguely amused.

Always ready to show off, he thumbs on the blade. At first, he holds it steady for the man to gape over – before twirling it in a few complex formations. Just because.

The man’s eyes fill with tears and suddenly all amusement fades. Kylo disengages the blade.

“I need your help.”

The Darksider immediately begins to turn away; he has no need for a personal pilgrimage today.

The man reaches out as if to grasp at Kylo's arm and he  _ pivots  _ fast, grabbing the man by the wrist and bending him over to face towards the ground. “That’s not very good  _ manners,”  _ he intones dangerously. 

“P-please; my son. I need your help with my son.”

“Why?”

“Just – just please come see.”

~~~~~~~~

The home is disheveled, though not as dirty as he had expected – but there  _ is _ a problem here. The Force tingles all around him with a mild energy surge. Not strong – almost barely there. Like a sort of static. 

The man scoots into the house, a little too cautiously for Kylo’s liking.

“You have to understand – the village is  _ afraid  _ of him. He – he makes things shimmer. Like shadows and things. They call him the ‘cursed child of death’ – and maybe he is. 

“Sometimes he hears  _ voices  _ – says he thinks they’re from people who have passed on.”

A small and angry voice ebbs out from a room inside the house. “I can hear you.” Despite the tone, the words come out softly. 

Kylo’s frown deepens, knowing that this man is speaking badly of his child  _ right in front _ of him.

“Rà, I found him. I found the Jedi. I think he can help you with what’s wrong with you. Maybe he can take it away. Help you be a normal boy, just like you want.”

The voice sounds crumbled. “Like  _ you  _ want.” There is a deep and liquid sniff.

Kylo is horrified, placing a rough hand on the father’s chest and pushing him aside. He stalks toward the sound of the voice, turning around a tight corner to a closet of a room. There is a small boy – all elbows and knees. When he sees Kylo, he rubs his face furiously and takes on an angry demeanor.

“I don’t  _ want  _ you to take it away.”

Kylo steps closer. “How old are you?”

The boy sniffs again, not answering, looking away in stubbornness instead. Kylo flicks his senses out and he lets the boy feel it, on purpose. Like a tingling in his brain. The boy… Rà’s eyes go wide as he continues his stare into the corner.

“You’re seven years old. Born on Reap Day, when the harvest comes in.”

The boy turns to face him, as if he’s a magician. Or a devil.

Kylo holds his hand up to quiet him. “And this,” he gestures a finger around in the air, eyes up towards the ceiling, “this happens the most when you’re sad… or angry… or if someone hurts you.”

The boy wraps his arms around himself and Kylo feels both a wave of shame roll off him as well as a spike in the electric feeling all around. The air seems to hum a bit. A small buzz.

Kylo takes one slow step after another, hands up in a soothing gesture as he makes soft hushing sounds. He feels the boy’s father move to stand within the doorway and Kylo turns to him quickly, voice stern. “Give him some  _ space.” _

The father nods and backs away.

Fear. That man is soaking in fear.

Kylo turns back towards the boy. “How long have you felt this?”

Rà sniffs, dragging his small arm over his nose, leaving an unfortunate trail on his skin. “Since I was little.”

“Do you know what it is?”

The boy nods. “It’s a demon inside me. It’s called the Force – and it makes me do things that scare people.”

Kylo’s heart rages within him. “That’s  _ not  _ what the Force is.”

“Only if you master it – only if you can fight off the demon.” He pauses, his small, high-pitched voice cracking. “But it makes me do  _ good  _ things too… and I  _ like _ those things.”

The boy’s eyes lift to him with hope. “Can you take the demon away and leave the angel?”

Kylo moves toward the boy once more, nearly towering over him and the boy winces. It’s clear he doesn’t want to be touched.

Kylo knows why he doesn’t want to be touched.

“There are demons and angels inside all of us. And sometimes the line isn’t as clear as you’d think.” Kylo reaches out a slow hand and the boy cringes into himself. Softly, Kylo’s fingers pet the boy’s brown hair.

And Rà weeps in earnest.

His voice is like gravel. “I need to speak with your  _ father.” _

~~~~~

The man follows him, still worrying that hat between his hands. Such a worthless, pitiful man. Once they get far enough from the house, Kylo turns into a small, abandoned alleyway and the man follows suit. Terror amps up in him as soon as they round the corner.

Maybe he’s not as stupid as he looks.

Kylo whips around fast, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and ramming him, back first, onto the brick wall that’s caging them in – leaving the man with the wind knocked out of him.

“I’m only going to say this to you once, in _no uncertain terms._ The Force is _not_ the devil. The Force is _neither_ evil _nor_ good. Your son has a gift – and he is not alone. There is at least one other Force sensitive here on this very planet – an ex-Stormtrooper. You need to get your son to her. Let her help him…

“But  _ do not,”  _ Kylo hisses, “Do  _ not  _ abandon him. Don’t you dare make him feel the way he feels today. If you’re afraid of him now – just think of what he’ll become if you terrorize him.” He shakes the man until he thinks he hears his teeth rattle.

With a level of disgust, Kylo roughly releases the man, who sputters a bit – remaining pressed as closely to the wall as possible. “He won’t hurt me. He’s my  _ son.” _

Kylo leans in, whip fast, “My father and mother abandoned me because of my power. Left me for others to try to ‘fix'.” Kylo feels the venomous box open from within him. “And do you know what I did to _my_ father?”

The man shakes his head, panic sweat seeping off him.

He doesn’t mean to – but he can’t help how his voice cracks, “I  _ killed  _ him.”

And, at the admission, Kylo steps back, his eyes showing far too much emotion, as they were prone to do.

The man shakes his head, grasping slightly at his collar, disbelieving. “But you’re a  _ Jedi.” _

“What makes you think that Jedi don’t kill?”

There is a crackle of understanding between them before Kylo speaks again. “I’m going to go to your boy and I will keep him with me for  _ one  _ day.  _ One.  _ I will teach him about what the Force is. And what it is  _ not.  _ And when I return him – you will never raise a hand to him again, or I will come back and do to you what I do to  _ other  _ fathers.”

Before he can regret his decision too deeply, he turns away. “Meet my colleagues and I at the town’s docking station tomorrow - 1300 hours, standard. We'll be in a ship called the Millennium Falcon. I will return your son in better shape than I received him. I suggest you endeavor to  _ keep him  _ that way.”

And so, Kylo leaves the man clutching his heart in an alleyway that's as narrow as his mind is small.

~~~~~~~

Rà walks so closely behind Kylo that he feels his heels getting nipped by the front of the boy’s shoes. Though his irritation ramps, he tries not to react to it. The boy is nervous enough.

They enter the common area and CL sits on the couch, arms spread and a grin on his face that shines like sun.

Kylo grimaces. “If you get a disease, Finn can’t heal you anymore.”

CL shrugs. “Worth it.”

Rà tips his head out from behind Kylo and looks at the trooper with wide eyes. Kylo watches CL’s face falter.

Damn. He should have thought this through better.

CL clears his throat and changes his body position, sitting up tighter and running his palms over the thighs of his pants, as if they’d suddenly become sweaty. “Hey, kid. What’s someone like  _ you _ doing here?”

Rà’s voice is tentative and he ducks back behind Kylo a bit more, so only his eyes show, “Master Ren said I could stay the night.”

CL looks at Kylo. Just  _ looks. _

Eventually he brings his eyes back down and smiles, though it’s obvious to Kylo that it’s forced. “Well – then welcome to this piece of junk, stranger. Need something to eat?”

Rà shakes his head sharply, his brown bangs flipping in straight lines with the movement.

CL’s fake smile remains as he pats his hands beside him on the couch. “Well, then. I’ll leave you two to yourselves.”

He gets up and moves past them a bit too quickly, though he pauses to wink at the boy before he goes. “Don’t beat up Master Ren  _ too _ bad. I’ll have to hold you accountable.”

Rà smiles, shyly.

CL nods once more and leaves the area with clipped steps, heels clacking as they fade through to the anterior of the ship. Kylo breathes in a deep sigh and inwardly scolds himself. He should have realized that CL might feel like this. 

The boy asks, “Did I do something wrong?”

Kylo turns and hunkers down to get to eye-level with him. “No. That’s CL-3337 – and he’s had a very tiring… excursion. He’s not entirely himself at the moment.”

Rà nods.

Kylo stands again and beckons the boy over. “Can you keep a secret?”

The boy nods again – fairly strongly, this time.

Kylo nods curtly. “Good. Then I’ll show you one.”

He takes the boy back into the cargo hold and over to a section of the floor with heavy grating. He kneels and looks at the boy meaningfully, putting his finger to his lips in the universal gesture for ‘secret’ and the boy smirks a little, mimicking the expression.

Kylo’s lip quirks as he wrenches up the grate and lifts the boy, placing him down in the channel below. He lowers himself next, replacing the wrought durasteel above them.

“This is my hideout. I’ve used it since I was a little boy – even younger than you.”

Rà seems excited to share in the secret, so Kylo feels a bit of pride in the moment. He has to duck, but they work their way down to the familiar metal panel. As Kylo softly pops it in and slides it over, the boy lets out a  _ “Whoaaa…”  _ making him smirk a bit more.

He nods to let the boy go in first, before following.

He flicks the rigged inner-switch, illuminating the small space. Holocrons line the shelving, jeweled red and blue tones, like hard rock-candies. The boy’s eyes are wide as he turns in small circles, taking it all in. Kylo sits, cross legged and thinks about the younglings from the Temple and where, exactly, he wants to start.

“Want to see a trick?”

Rà turns around to look at him, wide eyed, and nods excitedly.

Kylo reaches his hand out gently, aware not to make any jerky movements, and calls a filigreed blue square to himself.

The boy’s jaw could not drop any lower and Kylo can’t help but let his lips twitch in response.

“This is a Holocron. It’s like a regular Holo – but it’s locked up tight, so only people who have the Force can open it. Would you like to try?”

Rà looks at the flooring.

Kylo leans in and whispers, “I won’t tell your dad. If you keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.”

The boy smiles a little. Considering, he decides to sit cross legged as well, mirroring Kylo perfectly. Keeping the Holocron hovering, Kylo moves it to float directly between them. Its blue light dances in the boy’s wide eyes.

“Now – I want you to try to open it. Do you want to know how?” This one is fairly low-level, seal weak enough that the boy might be able to do it.

He nods again. Not much for words, this one.

“I just need you to close your eyes – and when you do, think about things that make you feel nice and calm. What do you like?”

Without a moment’s thought, the boy shutters his eyes and smiles a bit. “Flowers.”

Nodding, Kylo continues, “Perfect. Sit there with your eyes closed. Think of every flower that you can.”

“Okay.”

They pause for a bit. The minutes tick by, one after the other. Kylo doesn’t reach into the boy, but he does sense the air. Once the hum – which has come from the Rà since he’s met him - settles down, he intones quietly, “Now, think about this box. Picture it in your mind. Can you picture it?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Good. Focus directly on it. Like aiming an arrow. And once you do, think – ‘open.’.”

And it does.

The boy’s eyes go wide. He scoots back a bit in surprise as a blue Hologram appears from within. Kylo ignores the voice that now emanates from the cube and latches it closed once more. The details inside didn’t matter; it was the unlocking that did. 

“Very good. Very good. Now – let’s try again.” He sets down the blue and calls over one of the red triangles. Its light is slightly muted, comparatively. Darker in color. But Kylo still thinks it’s just as beautiful.

He hovers this one. “Now – we’re going to do the same thing – but instead of thinking about flowers, I want you to think about something that hurts you. Or something that makes you mad, or afraid. Can you do that?”

Rà cringes again. After a pause, he nearly whispers, “And I won’t get in trouble?”

Kylo leans in, reminding the boy, “I’ll keep your secret.” 

The boy breathes in and scoots himself closer once more, shutting his eyes and tipping his head down. His brow furrows as his bangs fall over his eyes.

It only takes the briefest of moments, and the hum is back – escalating to a buzz fairly quickly. Kylo sees it. The shadows cast by the wall’s lighting start to shimmer; the faded lines that denote their edges suddenly warping and fluxing.

“Now – ‘open’, Rà.”

And the Sith holocron splits open with neither hesitation nor gentleness. The boy’s eyes gape in panic at the sound. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

Kylo tamps down his reaction and holds his hand up to calm the boy once more. “You didn’t break it. You didn’t. You just did a…  _ very good job _ opening it.”

The boy’s expression softens, but only slightly.

Kylo closes up this one as well. “You used the Force just now. Both times. Could you tell what the difference was?”

The boy looks away. “One time I called to the angel… and the other time I summoned the devil. That’s what my dad says.”

Kylo’s voice holds no room for argument. “He’s  _ wrong.” _

Rà still won’t connect eyes with his and Kylo’s heart starts to ache a bit.

“There is a Light side to the Force… and a Dark side. Did you know I can use  _ both? _ And I’m not the only one.”

The boy’s head does turn to him now.

“The Force is within everything all around you. It’s in the air, the ground. In things that live and things that die. It’s in the blackness of space and right inside your body. It’s not  _ good  _ and it’s not  _ bad.  _ It just  _ is.  _ Now, if you’re sensitive to it, you can access it in different ways...”

He holds up the glowing blue square. “Peace. Tranquility. Calm – the Light side.”

With his other hand, he holds up the bleeding triangle. “Extreme emotions. Pain, passion, anger, fear. The Dark side.”

Kylo sets both down in his lap. “At first, I always thought it was one or the other. I also thought that the Dark side made you stronger than the Light.” He pauses, rubbing his thumbs over the cool surfaces of both objects. “But I think now, as long as the goal you’re trying to achieve is  _ good,  _ then it might not matter so much which side of the Force you use to get there.”

He smiles at the boy. “But there are certain things you can only do with the Light, and certain things you can only do with the Dark. What can you do with the Light?”

The boy smiles softly. “I can talk to people who aren’t there. And sometimes, I can help things grow.” He leans in, conspiratorially. “I have  _ plants _ in my backyard.”

Kylo raises an eyebrow. “Oh, do you now?”

The boy grins, nodding his head up and down fervently. Kylo snorts a laugh, leaning his face on his fist as his elbow rests against his knee.

“Now – what can you do with the Dark?”

The smile on the boy’s face fades. “I can scare people away.”

“Why do you scare them away?”

The boy doesn’t speak, but his eyes do. Kylo sighs and reaches out a kind hand again. The boy looks at him for a moment, before nodding his head down to let Kylo pet his hair once more. He can’t help but smile at the softness.

“You’re amazing.”

~~~~~

Finn jumps into the cockpit and reaches out to fist-bump Chewie. The Wookie responds and they clunk their knuckles together before releasing into a “Boom!” as their fingers waggle.

“Good job, New Boy?”

“Oh yes, very good.” He throws himself into the seat and pulls one knee up, counting off things on his fingers. “They’ve got mining, farming, social services and community work. All pay, except for community work – but that comes with room and board, so it shouldn’t be a problem. It’s not like they’re used to pocket money, anyway.”

The Wookie grumbles out, “Down side?”

Finn shrugs. “I’m not sure. We didn’t talk about what they did while on active duty. If they were in the field – real soldiers, it might be hard to get a fit. If they ran tactical engineering, also not a good fit. Medics are always useful, though.”

Grunting, “Better than nothing.”

“Better than nothing,” Finn agrees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is only one bunk left to spare, and Kylo brings Rà to it now. It smells a little stale and it holds all the more... juvenile and rudimentary Holocrons he’d left behind to trick Finn. He’s still fairly pleased with himself for that.

“This is mine for tonight?”

Kylo nods. “You’re sure you’re not hungry?”

Rà shakes his head. “My tummy hurts.”

Kylo nods once more, tenderness rising in him. He goes to the bed and pulls the blankets back for the boy, gesturing with his head for him to get inside. Rà gives a small smile and does just that.

Kylo doesn’t really think about it, but he starts tucking the boy in, just like he does for Rey. He absentmindedly wonders about whether or not the boy’s hair is long enough to braid before he rolls his eyes at himself.

Reinforcing the lesson, “When you have that feeling – that feeling you got when you tried to open the red Holocron – and you  _ don’t want it, _ what should you do?”

“Count the flowers.”

“And?”

“Name the colors.”

“And?”

The boy pauses, looking away. “Know that if I… make a mistake… it will be okay.”

Kylo nods, finishing his tuck. He stands to leave, but the small boy’s voice rings out once more. “He wasn’t always bad to me, you know.”

Kylo’s hackles rise, knowing that the boy means his father. He immediately turns back and places himself on the edge of the boy’s bed. 

It seems like Rà has found his words.

“When I was little – he used to take me to the fair. There would be these biiig, red aja fruits covered in brown sweet sauce, and he would buy them for me.” The boy smiles. “And when I couldn’t see the acrobats, he would lift me up on his shoulders. Once I got sauce in his hair – but he didn’t even get mad. He laughed with me.” The smile becomes a grin as the boy stares at the wall. “He couldn’t wash it out right, so his hair was all clumpy for days.”

Kylo smiles at him.

Then the boy’s face falls. “But now, he’s afraid of me.” His bottom lip trembles. “He doesn’t treat me nice anymore… and the sadder I get, the more bad things happen… and the more bad things happen, the more he gets scared. He doesn’t love me anymore...”

Rà’s eyes fill to the brim with tears, but he holds them back, simply sniffling. “I just keep yelling at myself, over and over – why do I have to be so…” the boy’s voice shatters,  _ “bad.” _

Once the dam breaks, the flood ensues. “I scare the neighbors – so the bullies come. When the bullies come, I get angry, so more things happen… and everything just gets worse. They won’t talk to my daddy, and so he doesn’t talk to  _ me.  _ All he wants is for me to go away. Why won’t anybody just be  _ nice _ to me? Why won’t anybody  _ love me? _

“I’m so sad – I want my daddy to love me. I don’t want him to go away. I don’t want him to be ashamed of me or afraid of me.  _ I don’t want him to think I’m a bad boy!” _ Rà’s face crumples and he curls into himself, crying.

Kylo’s heart breaks. He pulls back the sheets, regardless of how it startles the boy and lifts him into his arms, nearly crushing him against his chest. Rà sobs and  _ sobs,  _ and Kylo can’t help but find himself rocking back and forth, back and forth, repeating, over and over and over again, “You’re not a bad boy. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You’re not bad, Rà. It’s not your fault. I know you don’t mean it. Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay...  _ you’re not a bad boy…” _

He rocks and rocks, voice on repeat…

And he feels like he’s talking to himself.

~~~~~~~~~

Kylo slides the door shut again in his private space before sliding down the wall until he’s on the floor. His shoulders shake as he curls his knees up, burying his face against them.

His father had taken him to fairs, too – all over the Galaxy. It was when he was little – before his powers got too strong and Han Solo had stopped taking him on runs.

There had been so many colorful things. Flags and confetti. Costumes and animals. Acrobats and musicians. When he was little, he remembers eyeing a specific noisemaker. No matter where else he looked, his eyes kept drifting back to that one thing. Once, though, when he looked back – his father had been gone. He had started to worry, looking around fast, wanting to make sure he wasn’t somehow lost – but then he heard his father’s rumbling voice, “Hey, kid.”

And when he turned around, Han Solo was holding out the noisemaker. Just for him. His father had winked at him and ruffled his hair. “Just don’t play with it around your mother. She doesn’t know we’re here.”

Kylo lets himself  _ remember.  _ All those tiny moments he’d locked away. All the hair ruffles. All the times his father called him ‘Little Bandit’ and ‘kid’. 

All the secret runs when his mom was away. The hush-hush moments where he knew he and his father shared something special together that they weren't supposed to do. Like playing cards with Uncle Lando. And beating him.

All the times his father showed him how to fly the Falcon. The one time he’d knocked it into hyperdrive, and they’d come out only  _ just  _ in time to not crash into a planet. Kylo huffs a laugh through his misery, remembering how Chewie continually lamented that he’d almost ‘died of a heart attack’ over the next several years.

He’d known it, then. He’d  _ felt  _ it. His father had once been proud of him. He’d once liked to show his son off to anyone that would look at him. 

Once upon a time, his father had  _ loved  _ him.

What would it feel like? To love a son… to love him so much, but then not be able to understand what was happening to him? 

When the nightmares started, his father used to hold him and sing him silly songs… but when he got older, he started levitating and breaking things… he couldn’t control it. He didn’t even know he was doing it, at first. He thought it was the voice inside his head. 

Any normal person would have been afraid.

How would it feel to have such a disconnect? To not know what to do? To be a man with a penchant for wanderlust anyway, escaping to  _ anywhere  _ just to not feel the pain of his son falling apart – and the pain of his own inability to do anything about it.

And the pain of your marriage splitting apart because of it.

He weeps, then. Oh, how he weeps. His body heaves and shakes and  _ mourns.  _ A waterfall of emotions floods him and it’s like he’s gasping for air.

He throws his sorrow at nothing, speaking out loud, even though there’s no one there.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,  _ I'm so sorry Dad…” _

He remembers his father, almost hearing him in his mind – calling him; over and over and over again. His name, his nicknames. In voices of laughter or feigned sternness. Surprise and pride.

He hears the screech of metal grating above him and a muffled voice. Still, he can’t stop. His young life plays on a loop in his head, making sure he relives  _ every small moment _ of joy with the man he would someday destroy.

There is banging until the latch pops and the secret door swings open. Finn rushes in, banging his head on the low ceiling.

“Where the hell? What _ is  _ this place? I’m freaking out – I can  _ feel  _ you. What are you doing that I can still  _ feel you?”  _ Then Finn actually sees Kylo kneeling, curled before him. He sees his shoulders shake and he hears his sobs.

Getting to one knee, Finn’s voice is soft with concern. He reaches a hand out and rests it gently on the broad expanse of his back, intoning, “Ren?”

“Ben.” He corrects, voice broken. “My name is Ben Solo.”


	27. Rà

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! 
> 
> Some have said that they're interested in a sequel - aaaaand I am, too. If you're on that train, would you subscribe to me as an author? I'll take any numbers jumps to show interest. That will help me see how much brain power to throw at this idea (and how many things to possibly hold back from, so I can weave into the next story <3)

  
  


Art by [Yasmine](https://www.deviantart.com/yasmine-arts)

_________________

_________________

Finn shoves back some meds to help with his splitting headache, and replaces the ice pack that balances on his brow. His eyes are puffy, and it’s like he can barely see through them.

Last night – he’d found Ren’s… Holocron hidey hole… and the man was basically in pieces. When Finn had reached out to pet his back, Ren had grabbed at his waist, pulling himself over to sob into Finn’s lap.

It was when he touched him, Finn decided, that everything went wrong. When he touched him… it  _ heightened _ his access to the Force, somehow. Enough that Ren’s feelings  _ poured  _ into him – and it wasn’t long until he was crying, too.

They sat there for what seemed like  _ hours  _ – just sobbing and holding on to each other. Holding on for a lifeline.

And now Finn’s head feels like one single word on repeat.

Thud.

Speaking of the devil, Ren walks into the common room and tosses a bag of something on the counter.

“Where were you?” Finn closes his eyes and just rests his chin against the tabletop, peeking periodically through swollen eyelids at their resident… is he really just a Darksider, anymore?

Ren looks as bad as Finn feels, bags under his eyes for days. “Couldn’t sleep – went out to grab something.”

“What could you possibly need at this godforsaken hour of the morning?”

CL yawns and interrupts them, scratching at his back and arching as he stumbles his way in for caf. Ren seemed to hate the stuff, but CL drank it like water.

Come to think of it – he doesn’t look any good either. Finn nearly croaks at him, “Did you feel it, too?”

There is no answer as the salt-and-pepper man shuffles forward.

Finn lifts his head up again. “Yo! CL.”

The trooper grumbles, “Don’t shorten my name just because you’re lazy.”

Finn rests his chin back on the table with a whiny grump, “Your full name is _six syllables.”_

Ren seems to be looking at CL a little sadly. “When did  _ your _ misery start?”

CL scrubs his hands over his face as Ren pours him his coffee.

“About the time I left you guys.” Thinking his way out of a box, CL forces a smile. “I guess I was like a blushing virgin – weeping delicately over my first time.”

Finn snorts and puts his cheek down, ice pack slipping onto the tabletop. “Doesn’t seem like there was anything ‘delicate’ about it.”

Long story short – they're all miserable.

A kid shuffles into the common area and Finn blanches. “Hey – guys? Guys?! There's a kid in here...”

CL tosses back a steaming gulp and doesn’t say anything. Ren turns around with his bag and places it on the table, looking at the boy. “Rà, this is Finn. Finn – Rà. He'll be visiting for today.”

Ren pulls open the cooler and fishes out some re-filtered water, pouring it and setting it before the boy. “How’s your stomach?”

The boy rubs his eyes. Had he been crying, too? They’re all a mess. This whole ship is a mess! Where’s the Wookie?

“It’s okay.”

“Good.” Ren fusses with the bag he’d brought onto the ship, pulling out cup after cup of brown stuff of some kind – followed by an overlarge, red fruit.

The boy’s eyes go as wide as the puffiness will allow. “An aja fruit?”

Ren nods and starts to shove the little cups his way. “You said sweet brown sauce – but I didn’t know what kind. This is what they had.”

The boy looks at Ren like he’s an angel.

“If your stomach still hurts, don’t force yourself – just drink water.” He looks around the room and huffs a sigh. “We should all drink some water.”

Chewie stumbles in, no worse for the wear and grumbles a ‘good morning’…

… and the kid just about wets himself.

~~~~~~

“He’s with Chewie, he’ll be fine!” Finn hisses. “You have to tell me what the hell is going on! CL, like, is hiding in his room – which is so unlike him, I can’t even begin to describe it. Did  _ you _ do that? Is that because of last night?”

Ren leans back against the wall and shakes his head. “We didn’t project out, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then what the hell is wrong with him?”

Ren just looks away and makes one of his patented, ‘I’m not going to be bothered with the likes of you’ faces. Finn throws up his hands in exasperation.

“And the kid?”

“His name is Rà. His father…” Ren trails off, looking into the distance, before continuing, “Doesn’t know what to do with him. Rà’s Force sensitive. Not  _ too  _ strong – but strong enough. The more his father gets afraid, rejects him... gets  _ mean _ ... the further that little boy steeps himself in the Dark side.” Ren seems to bite the inside of his cheek. “His father told him that he has a devil inside him.”

Finn pauses. He leans in and whispers, “He  _ what?” _

“Don’t worry – I threatened him.” Ren almost smiles. Almost. “I showed the boy some different ways to try and keep himself in control, but… maybe you can connect him to that ex-trooper. The one that had the Force?”

Finn nods quickly. “Sure. Sure, I can do that.”

“His father should be here around 1300 to get him.”

“Do you… do you think your threat worked?”

Ren sighs and closes his eyes, leaning his head back with a small bump. “No.”

~~~~~~~

He’s not here, yet. Nearly 1400 and the man still hasn’t shown. Finn has already gone off to try to find him. An image of directions and pictures was thrust into Finn’s mind, so he’d be able to find his way.

In the meantime, Kylo…

…Ben…

_ Ben  _ sits cross-legged on the floor with Rà as he tries to pull things out of his bag – all so he can play a sort of ‘show-and-tell’. Without speaking, the boy reverently removes a book, opening it to different pages to display colorful pressed flowers. Ben quirks his lips.

“Tell me which one is which.”

The boy’s nervous energy had started a small hum around the room once it was clear that his father was late. It was time for him to put his lesson into practice.

Ben starts to hear him name names – taking great care to describe each one, and the colors they can manifest in – when his connection to Finn tingles. Ben opens his mind and Finn’s thoughts are filtered with sorrow. The words are not clear, but their meaning is. 

_ Gone. _

Ben closes his eyes and sighs, heart heavy, and thrusts a thought in Finn’s direction.  _ What do you mean, gone? _

An image, blurry but understandable fuzzes over from Finn’s half of the connection. The man’s grip on the Force has been returning, slowly but surely. Ben thinks he might have... super charged it by  _ whatever it was _ that happened between them last night, which is only working to their benefit. 

Finn’s innate skills seem to be different than Rey’s, but useful, none-the-less. He was something like a conduit. A telepathic communicator. 

The foggy picture that comes through is of the house Ben had just been in the previous day – only, it’s completely empty. 

Rà’s father had left, and he’d taken everything with him.

He’d abandoned his son, after all.

Ben brings himself back to the present moment just in time to feel the buzz settle down. The boy looks at him with a small smile, proud of himself. As he should be.

Suddenly, Rà’s eyes slide to the side and he sits up straight, looking over to the direction of the hall. Ben quirks an eyebrow, but the boy doesn’t even notice as his attention is laser-focused on something he can’t see. When Rà’s turns his head back, he is  _ beaming _ . It’s a smile Ben didn’t know this boy was capable of producing.

Grinning, he asks, “Master Ren, can I meet her?”

And Ben’s heart is in this throat.

~~~~~~~~

Rà is giggling, “No – no, I don’t think so.” He turns and looks at Ben with warmth in his eyes before looking back to Rey’s body. “Wellllll – maybe.”

Ben watches in exaltation. Something more than just relief floods him. This boy can  _ hear her. _

“He’s helping me.” A pause, “Yeah, I think he’s pretty nice.” Rà laughs one more time, getting a glimmer in his eyes. “I don’t know that one. Do you think he would?” The boy turns and tucks his brown hair behind his ears.

“Master Ren, will you tell me the story about the Earth and the Sky?”

Ben lets out a sound somewhere between a sigh of relief and a laugh. She’d heard him at night, then. Talking to her; sometimes even singing to her… she’d  _ heard him.  _ He nearly wants to cry again – but this time for completely different reasons.

Rà puts a hand on him and smiles gently. “She says she misses you, too, Master Ren.”

And Ben can’t help it, he drags the boy into another hug. “Thank you,” he says, a little gruff with feeling.  _ “Thank  _ you.”

He lets the boy go and lightly pushes him back so he can look into his face. Rà seems shy, but pleased.

Ben settles back and clears his throat, preparing to tell a story.

~~~~~~~

CL-3337 sits on his bunk with his hands over his face. It’s stupid. He was being stupid. A sentimental old fool, calling up feelings long buried.

He’d made the poor kid feel bad. And  _ that  _ kid looked like the kind that was made to feel bad all the time.

It was time to soldier up – that, he knew. No one had any clue what the hell his problem was, and he wasn’t about to tell them. Hell, he wasn’t even in any frame of mind to ask what the hell RN & FN’s problems were.

That was incredibly unlike him. 

CL-3337 liked absolute awareness of everyone around him. It was his way to stay in control. People are less likely to kill you if they  _ like _ you. 

In theory, anyway...

~~~~~~~~~~

There is a sizzling sound when Ben and Rà finally leave the med bay. The smell is… amazing. It’s –  _ bacon.  _ Fattening, totally unhealthy, ridiculously delicious  _ bacon. _

Rà lets go of Ben’s hand to saunter forward, bravely peeking his head around the corner. “Yeah, is that...? Okay. Okay. Sure – I’ll tell him.”

In a gesture Ben doesn’t expect, the boy starts to approach CL from behind. His voice is quiet, but unwavering. “Um… sir?”

CL turns around, looking quickly around before remembering to look  _ down  _ as he slides the meat around the pan. He smiles – a real smile – though it’s fairly small, and just a little sad. “Hey, kid.”

Without preamble, “Rey says that you’re a nice man.”

CL looks at him strangely, moving the pan off the fire and switching off the burner. He hunkers down to look Rà in the eyes. “And how do you know what Miss Rey says?”

The boy grins again. “It’s the angel… ermm…” he casts a glance at Ben, “the Light side.”

CL’s smile is more genuine now. “I see. I think Miss Rey is pretty nice, too.”

“She says that you help Master Ren. That you do his braids. And she says that she likes them – but she wants to tell you herself, someday.”

And CL grins out a laugh. Looking at Ben, he nearly gloats, “I  _ told you _ it was worth all the pulling! I expect nothing but sincere gratitude, from this point on.”

Finn steps in then, empty handed. “Gods – is that  _ bacon?  _ Ren never makes  _ bacon!” _

He snorts, “It’s unhealthy.”

“And AMAZING!” Finn does a quick fist bump to no one. He pauses for a second, looking at Ben and tilting his head a bit to one side. A gesture to ‘come with me’.

When they duck off into a corner, Finn states sadly, “I checked with the guys out here in the docking bay; they said he booked passage. He’s not coming back.”

Ben shoves his hands through his hair. “Will the ex-trooper take him?”

_ “Mentor  _ him, sure.  _ Take  _ him? I dunno…”

CL steps in, wiping his hands off on a dishtowel. “We’ll take him.”

Ben looks at him, eyes narrowed in disbelief, especially knowing what he knows… but the trooper just shrugs. “What else can we do?”

From the other room, they all hear Chewie cry out a gleeful growl, “BACON!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What to call this one? ‘NEW New Boy’?

‘Little One’?

Yes. That will work nicely.

There’s something heartwarming about watching Stupid Boy right now. He’s laying on the floor.  _ Laying on the floor.  _ Little One is nearby, taking large sheets of paper out of his bag. They seem like prizes to him.

Stupid Boy looks at them like they’re prizes, too.

Little One has an ink set and Stupid Boy grins in a way Chewie’s never seen him do as an adult. He points at the inkpot and asks Little One’s permission.

Permission? Huh. 

Little One seems to be good for Stupid Boy.

He starts to use the ink and brush, drawing curving lines. It’s not in Basic – but Chewie knows he’s writing letters and words.

He thinks they’re rather nice looking.

Still – ‘Team Jedi’ work is  _ dangerous _ work. It’s not safe for Little One to stay.

~~~~

Ren was putting the kid to bed. Finn hadn’t hung around much, honestly. If the kid can talk to Rey… well, he's not quite ready to face  _ that _ music, yet.

Instead, he plays with his lip in the cockpit of the plane. They’re not going anywhere – but he just feels like being among the distracting little flashing lights.

Tomorrow, the ex-troopers are coming into town with all their stuff to meet with the different opportunities that are open to them. There are more than 60 troopers in all. It seems like a lot – but based on the size of a ship like the Annihilation, that number was  _ tiny. _

0.00006% of the ship’s onboard capacity.

What the hell was it like to be on that ship? On any of them? 

In those last minutes, when the tables turned; when they betrayed their colleagues – maybe even their friends. When they looked deep into the heart of their long-term homes…

And burned them.

They’re calling it the ‘Great Defection’.

Finn can’t help but remember Yama’s words:  _ “In Galactic Basic, ‘great’ has two meanings. One is positive. The other just implies… enormity.” _

‘Great’ is the perfect word, then.

What happens now? Is he just going to go world-to-world and set up these small programs for the rest of his life? There are forty or fifty other pockets of troopers that have isolated themselves on  _ this planet  _ alone. There are too many worlds. Nowhere near enough time. No, Finn needs a system. A sort of – organization.

He flips on the viewscreen and clicks in to find out if Poe’s still awake. Looking briefly at the clock and doing some rough math – he realizes his Co-General should actually be in the middle of his sleep cycle…

But, what the hell. Poe can sleep when he’s dead.

~~~~~~

The boy looks a little sad as Ben folds the blankets around him. “Master Ren?”

He inflects his hum into a question.

“Do you think my Dad will come back?”

Not knowing how to answer, he decides honesty is the best way. When people lied to him, it usually made things go horribly wrong once he found out. 

“I don’t know. We’ll stay here for a few days more – but then we have to leave.”

Rà looks incredibly sad. A small hum seeps into the air. “But… where will I go? Do I… do I have to go to an orphanage? I’ve never met an orphan before. I don’t even know if they’re nice.”

Though he’s more wistful than anything else, his expression still tears at Ben’s heart.

“Master Ren… am _ I _ an orphan now?”

Ben runs his hands through Rà’s hair. The boy has stopped flinching at this movement, so that’s a good sign. Others still startled him and put him on edge, though. Something only time and trust will solve. 

“Do you want to come with us?”

Rà doesn’t say anything for a moment.

Ben is quick to add, with a smile, “You don’t have to. This is your home world. If you want to stay here – I will absolutely find a-“

But he stops when he feels Rà touch his hand. The boy’s eyes are on his. Unbelieving. “You – you want to keep me? Even though I’m…”

Ben smiles down on him, filled with sadness and warmth in equal measures. “Anyone who gets to be near you is a lucky creature.”

“So… I can stay?”

“Do you want to stay?”

Rà pauses… before his mouth turns upwards into a shy smile. “Yeah.”

Ben gets up to leave and the boy calls out after him once more.

“Master?” Ben turns to look at him. “Will you be my teacher? Will you show me about the Force?”

And Ben realizes – all he’s ever really wanted was for someone to need him. And here it is. Someone finally needs him.

And Ben needs him, right back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

__

When Ren gets back into the common area, Finn and CL are in the middle of a Dejarik game – neither knowing how to play well – all while Chewie makes fun of their every move.

CL has asked no less than three times about getting a Holo-training guide for Shyriiwook. Honestly, it’s not a bad idea. Finn could probably use it, too. After knowing 3-PO, he  _ definitely  _ doesn’t want a protocol droid. 

Ren enters and moves as if he’s about to go on through to the med-bay, but Finn stops him.

“Wait.” When Ren turns around with his eyebrows in his hairline, Finn looks at them all in turn with a small smile. “Family Meeting.”

CL grins. “Do we need to get out the cups, again?”

Finn snorts. He stands and moves to the center of the room. “Okay – first thing’s first. Clear the air. We now have a Force Kid. Anyone have an issue with that?”

CL looks at his hands, but otherwise says nothing. 

Chewie tips his head to the side and moans, “Little One might not be safe. We do dangerous things.”

Ren looks serious and takes that authoritative stance he gets sometimes. Finn likes to call it his ‘Supreme Leader look’. 

“I want him to stay.” He looks at each of them in a sort of a challenge. He keeps his voice strong, “Moreover –  _ he  _ wants to stay.”

CL smiles, still looking into his lap. “Is that an order, Sir?”

Ren sighs and crosses his arms. “A stern request.”

CL intones, “Loud and clear.”

Chewie gives in with a sad sort of shrug.

Finn nods. Hands on his hips, he continues. “I think I have another kind of job to offer these troopers – other than the ones in the city.”

The Wookie growls something that equates to, “Huh?”

“We can divide them into teams, by skill, and ask them to scout the rest of the planet for other cells.”

Ren furrows his brow. “I thought  _ we  _ were doing that?” But then it dawns on him. “We aren’t enough to make a dent in this on our own. The Galaxy is too big.”

Finn nods. “Exactly. And, if we can get this planet and all its troopers mobilized, trained on what reintegration might look like, we can send them off into space – each one taking a sector, finding more troopers and – wash, rinse, repeat. Some will integrate… and others will…”

“Recruit?”

Finn nods. “Close enough.”

CL looks pensive. “That’s all well and good, right… but – where are you going to get all the equipment you’re gonna need for something like that? Supplies? Comms?  _ Ships?” _

Ren’s grin blooms. “It just so happens that I have access to a nearly unlimited pool of money.”

CL’s mouth goes wide before he recovers himself. “Then why the hell are we in this pile-of-junk ship?”

Chewie tries to whack him, but misses. CL is learning. 

~~~~~~~~~

After another night of dreamless sleep and another morning of unhealthy deliciousness, Ben has just finished putting his body through its physical paces and is about to head off to his secret area. He’s lifting the grating when he feels Finn approach. Nearly groaning, he sets the metal back down, soundlessly.

Finn stares at him and he stares back. There is no malice, maybe just a sort of mutual understanding... and mild disapproval. It’s a while before Finn speaks.

“Can I see them?”

And Ben can’t see why not.

After they get down into the channel, he presses the panel open and ducks his head inside, hitting the interior lighting. He immediately folds himself into a sitting position, both out of habit and also because it’s the only way for someone of his size to fit into the room properly.

Finn follows suit, sitting a little bit away, and casts his eyes over the glowing Holocrons on the shelving lining the walls.

“You can open them.” Finn states, mildly.

“Of course.”

His voice gets a little reprimanding sound in it. “All of them?”

Ben sighs roughly, irritated. “Yes.”

Finn just stares in silence for a bit more. His head slowly turns as he looks through dozens of artifacts. Azure and crimson, dappling the walls. “Why didn’t you get rid of them?”

Ben hunches his back and pulls his knees up to his chest, linking his hands together over his shins. After a moment, he says, “I’ve been practicing the Force for more than twenty years-”

Finn scoffs, “Damn, you’re older than I thought you were.”

Ben shoots him a dirty look and continues. “In all that time – I’ve been able to record three. They’ve all been incredibly recently… and they’ve all been things I’d never even heard of before. New things. New discoveries. It’s not something that happens often. Making even  _ one _ of these is a precious rarity.” 

He gestures his hands widely. “This is what other people have discovered over the course of their life times. Intuitively. By instinct and practice. By dedicating their  _ lives  _ wholeheartedly to the pursuit of understanding the Force. Giving  _ everything. _

“Destroying these would be more than just killing these creatures all over again. It would be like burning every book that ever existed, because we’re afraid it would give  _ one person  _ a bad idea.”

Finn considers. “Tell me  _ one  _ good thing from  _ one  _ of those red ones. What’s  _ one  _ good Sith thing to know?”

Ben pauses and pulls his lips back between his teeth. With a fluid, unhurried gesture, he calls two different Holocrons towards him. One blue, and one red. He weighs them, heavy in his hands.

Finn raises an eyebrow but waits for Ben to gather his thoughts.

“There are so many awe-inspiring things – on both sides. We can argue about good and bad, but it might be better to look at something like common ground.”

Ben floats the two Holocrons and opens them. In the projected vision of one is a hunched green creature that he had heard about from his parents  _ long before _ he had ever cared about history. It was Jedi Master Yoda. In the projection of the other is a cloaked figure whose identity he could only guess at.

Their words are different and, at times, the voices distort over each other – but as Ben watches Finn’s expression, he knows that the man is coming to understand that  _ both  _ Holocrons are talking about the same technique.

With a wave of his hands, both artifacts re-latch and return to his lap.

Finn’s eyes are wide and his head is shaking back and forth. “No. No. Nuh-uh, I don’t agree –  _ no.” _

Ben smirk is small, but appreciative. “I don’t know how to heal her. I’ve never done it. I’ve never been taught. I think this is the only way I can learn how. I think that this is what I have to do, next.”

Finn leans in hard. “No.” He gets to his knees and faces Ben directly, pointing out towards the door. “In case you don’t remember, you  _ literally _ just kind of adopted a  _ kid.  _ And what happens to Rey, huh? If this doesn’t work…?”

_ “We  _ adopted a kid. All of us. And, I’m doing this  _ for  _ Rey.”

Finn brings his finger back and shakes it in Ben’s face instead. “No – you’re trying to  _ cut corners.”  _ His expression is pulled into a scowl as he crosses his arms, setting down on his rear again.

They take a moment to breathe before Finn begins again, “You need to give yourself more credit. You need to see that you’ve already come… well… farther than I thought you would – especially since  _ so little  _ time has passed.” Finn’s feathers ruffle at having given a compliment, so he tosses in a barb. “Not that, you know, you don’t still have  _ million of miles  _ left to go.”

Ben cuts in, softly, “But that’s just it. What if it takes me another ten years? Fifty? What if I only wake her up long enough for her to see that…” his voice gets a little deeper, “… that the man she’s been waiting for is old. Decrepit. Dying. And, when he dies, she’ll die anyway.

“At least, if this doesn’t work and I die now… she’ll be free. She’ll flow into the Force. She’ll be with Skywalker and my…” he swallows, “my mother. She won’t have to just  _ wait  _ anymore.”

Finn looks him dead in the eyes. “And you? If this doesn’t work, what happens to  _ you?” _

Ben just shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Finn looks away, working his jaw. He’s trying to think of something else to say – but Ben knows that there’s nothing that would convince him to change his mind. Finn must sense that, too. 

Ben’s been meditating over these two Holocrons for a while now. Watching the technique over and over again. A method approached by the Dark side  _ and _ the Light side – for when you needed to be able to commune most deeply with the Force for answers.

It’s called a Deprivation Ritual.

Ben catches Finn’s eyes and looks at him with a weighted gaze. “If this doesn’t work – you have to take care of them.”

Finn’s eyes bubble up, but he presses his palms into his eyes to scrub them away. “This doesn’t work without you. This isn’t ‘Team Jedi’ without a  _ Jedi.” _

Ben gets a cocky smirk on his face. “Skywalker  _ did  _ finally agree that the Jedi had to end. This would be a respectable way to do it.”

Finn snorts.

“Give me until tomorrow to prepare. I’ll give you the money, you just need to get me the equipment. Then, walk away. Just leave me on the ship.”

Finn’s eyes narrow. “Who’s gonna spot you?”

Without a second thought, “CL-3337.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


“And what if I don’t  _ want  _ to do it? Did you ever think of that? Why do you just  _ assume  _ I’ll do it?”

Ben lifts his eyebrows and smirks. 

CL stands ramrod straight near his viewport and shakes his head. Nervousness spills from him like molasses. “Don’t do that. Don’t. I don’t want to be… I’m not…” He breathes, unsure if he should say it, “I’m not your  _ subordinate _ anymore. Am I?”

Ben feels the roiling uncertainty coming from the trooper. The ‘am I’ at the end of the sentence giving the vestiges of Kylo Ren the opportunity to put the soldier back in his place. It was almost as if CL expected it. 

“No. You’re not.” Ben moves over to sit on the trooper’s bed, watching CL’s eyes meet his. “Because I would  _ never  _ trust a subordinate with this. And I’m not telling you to do anything.  _ I’m asking.” _

Ben pauses, folding his hands in his lap, gazing down, “I’m asking you to help me because you’re my  _ friend.”  _

CL lets out a mournful sound. “Well this is a shitty way to show your friendship, RN. And it’s a vicious way to ask me to prove mine.”

Ben’s eyes are locked down and his voice is barely a whisper, “Please. I have to get her back. I  _ have  _ to figure out how to do this. And this is the  _ only way  _ I know to try to get answers.”

“What if I refuse?”

Ben shrugs. “I’ll try to figure out a way to rig it on my own.”

CL looks at him incredulously, knowing that was likely impossible. The trooper sits down directly next to him on the bed, his mouth is pulled into a frown. “What if I mess this up?”

“You’ve got field medic traini-”

“No. What if I Mess. This. Up.”

Ben just shrugs. “Then I’ll haunt you forever and watch you get diseases from prostitutes.”

There is a pregnant pause while CL eyes him up and down. After a moment, both of them sputter out their sarcasm, breaking the tension. The trooper claps him on the back for the attempt at humor.

Shrugging one more time, Ben says softly, “If it doesn’t work… then I already forgive you. It might not make sense, but, win or lose – I still win. In a way, at least.”

CL nods, though it’s clear he doesn’t understand. 

“So will you?”

CL nods again, but more softly this time. “Tomorrow?”

Ben reaches out and grabs the trooper’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Tomorrow.”

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And I think the thing really just wanted to teach me how to play ball – but I kept staring at it funny – so it ran away.” Rà giggles, sitting on the foot of Rey’s bed, eating some barlan toast with his favorite brown sauce.

When Ben walks into the room, he can’t help but be a bit surprised. This bubbly boy can’t possibly be the same one he’d brought with him on the ship.

Little paper drawings line the room. Little cartoon ‘Reys’ drawn with a childish scrawl. All of them had little ‘Ràs’, too, from what he could tell. 

And more than a few had some ‘Master Rens’.

When the boy hears him, he whips around fast. “Hold on – let me try… I’ll see if I can!” He leaps off the bed and takes little snipping steps towards Ben. The boy grasps his hand, looking up at him in adoration.

_ Oh no…  _ Ben thinks.

He clears his throat. “Rà – do you... feel what Rey feels?”

The boy rocks back on the balls of his feet. “Well, she makes me feel happy.” He smiles.

Ben blows air out of his lips in such a way that it flips his bangs up above his head. How can he possibly ask this? “If Rey laughs – or gets mad – or…  _ loves _ somebody… do you feel that, too?”

The boy’s expression remains a gawking mystery, and Ben decides to give it up as a bad job. After a moment, though, a twinkle shines in the boy’s brown eyes; his expression mischievous. Ben can’t help but smirk at him, even though his voice comes out falsely stoic, “What were you going to try?”

Rà squeezes the overlarge hand that he’s holding and moves to drag Ben over towards Rey’s cot. Once there, he slips his remaining free hand into hers, as well.

“Rey told me that she can  _ see  _ them, Master Ren. That she’s been trying to stuff…? stick…? them together, but she hasn’t been able to figure it out.” He giggles, “It makes her so  _ frustrated!” _

Ben ventures again, “Does that make you feel frustrated, too?”

Rà shakes his head, still smiling. “No – but it’s pretty funny to listen to her.” He leans in conspiratorially and whispers, “She says bad words.”

Ben snorts – but then confirms, “So – just because she’s frustrated, it doesn’t make  _ you  _ frustrated?”

The boy, still holding both their hands, shakes a confused ‘no’.

The smile that blooms on Ben’s face is nearly unbeatable. “That’s good. That’s  _ very  _ good.” He snaps himself from his fairly selfish reverie. “Now – what is she trying to figure out?”

Rà rocks their hands within his own, nearly twirling at the waist. “The red thread.”

Ben doesn’t follow – and his face must show it.

“Rey says there is a red thread that comes from you – and one that comes from her, too. She keeps trying to…” the boy works his mouth to try to find the right vocabulary word, “…  _ stitch _ them together. But she can’t get ahold of yours.”

Ben’s heart floods with hope. “Can you?”

The boy bites his bottom lips with a grin and nods fast, his hair spilling over his forehead into his eyes. “And I can touch hers, too.  _ I practiced.” _ His smile lasts for only a moment before it falters a little bit, and he looks to the floor.

“I’m not sure I can  _ stitch, _ though, Master Ren… but… I could maybe give it a try?” The boy’s sentence inflects at the end, asking for permission to fail.

Ben takes his free hand and ruffles the boy once more. He might only get a few more opportunities to do that, so he’ll take advantage while he can. He remembers liking it, himself, when he was young.

There is a pause while the boy seems at a loss of how to start. Ben feels the small hand get clammy against his palm. That static feeling rises in the air once more, as he feels Rà’s insecurities speak.

He squeezes the boy’s hand, reassuringly. “It’s okay. Even if you can’t do it, it’s still okay.”

Rà looks at him before nodding resolutely and facing forward again. He closes his eyes and says, more to himself than anyone else, “Roses – red, purple, pink and yellow. Archavites – blue and green. Pannieys – orange with red edges…” and so on, and so on until the air clears and he settles.

Ben squeezes the boy’s hand once more and closes his own eyes. Looking for a red thread. He can’t see it… but maybe, just maybe, if he looks hard enough, maybe he can  _ feel  _ it.

Rà is letting out a calm wave. Something that feels soothing, like it could draw you in and hold you. With his eyes closed and his senses open, Ben can feel the boy’s pulse align with his. He breathes in steadily, slowly until he feels the tiniest twitch within himself.

His eyebrows narrow, but he keeps his lids shuttered as he feels something like fingers plucking at his aura through the Force. He tilts his head back slightly and sighs as the twitch becomes a sort of a  _ pull. _

_ He found it…  _ is all Ben can think while in this space in his mind. The rest is lost in white.

Pluck, pull, twitch, tweak… each motion nearly tickling him from the inside…

Suddenly, it’s like the whole room  _ implodes  _ around him, drawing him in like a black hole. He tries to fight it – but only for a moment before he  _ lets go. _

And  _ lets her in. _

His eyes fly wide as he grasps at his chest. Elation and fear and… so  _ much  _ more. He huffs a laugh, small but  _ so  _ meaningful, covering his mouth with both hands. He can feel her. He can  _ feel  _ her.

Her sweet lilt rings out as if it came from right beside him. He closes his eyes, hands still clasped against his smile.

_ Ben? _

He reaches out with his mind, trying to  _ hold on  _ to the feeling of her, but she’s already melting away. He floods with panic and his hands start to grasp at nothing. 

_ Please, Rey  _ – _ stay. Please stay with me.  _

But he feels her fading… distancing… until he hears one last thread of her thoughts. 

_ I’ll see you in our dreams. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to work in the story of the Earth and the Sky, but it was throwing the timing off. Still, I wanted to list it here. I didn’t come up with this story – and I’m not sure where I heard it… but I think it’s beautiful. I’m paraphrasing… so this might not actually be how the fairytale goes. :)
> 
> ___
> 
> Once upon a time, the Earth and the Sky were as one being. Lovers. So tightly knit together that one couldn’t exist without the other. 
> 
> But, then, God wanted to create man. 
> 
> He split the Earth and the Sky apart and there were great fires, floods, pain, and destruction. The Earth screeched for her other half, and the Sky was rendered in red. 
> 
> As God worked to soothe their pain, he gave them a way to stay close together. It was both kind and cruel at the same time, as God was wont to be.
> 
> He gave the Earth the ability to make tall Mountains and ever-reaching Trees. She would thrust and contort her body to make the first, and push from the ground up in agonizingly slow movements to make the other – all just to try to caress her lover, the wide and endless Sky. 
> 
> But she could never reach him – not really. 
> 
> And the Sky mourned her. He would stare down at her painful efforts, watching her break her body to try to get to him, and sorrow would swell within him – so deeply that he would cry rain down upon her. 
> 
> In this, they were finally able to touch. The Earth was able to taste her Sky’s tears. 
> 
> No matter how much she reached – and no matter how much he wept… this was the only way their feelings could reach each other. 
> 
> And that would have to be enough.


	28. Deprivation Ritual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter! Sorry - I couldn’t figure out how to break it up. 
> 
> Also - our amazing QUEEN BETA Elle is without electricity after the storms in northeast USA. Please forgive any punctuation errors, I wanted to release on time so she gave me permission to mortify myself in front of you all.
> 
> This chapter has a smattering of references that might be trigger warnings - though they are all mentioned in brief: Needles, blood, pregnancy, death, death of children, death of loved ones. As this is scattered all about, it's hard to recommend where to skip. The key segment is the last one - though Padme's cannon story is listed, and that could trigger for pregnancy.
> 
> Good luck, my friends! :|

Art by [Aquila-Audax](https://www.deviantart.com/aquila--audax/gallery) (With permissions~)

  
  


_________________

_________________

The boy’s brown hair falls over his eyes, so Ben brushes it back off of his forehead. Rà is telling him a goodnight story – directly from the ‘mouth’ of Rey.

Tonight, he knows that his dreams will come back. He’ll get to see her again as soon as he closes his eyes – but, this moment is so precious, he can’t bear to let it go too quickly. 

“And – so – um, the sand? She says the sand was in its  _ mouth,  _ Master Ren. Ugh! Like – like it was swallowing it and stuff!” The boy’s nose is crinkled, and his teeth show in disgust.

Ben makes a show of putting on a grimace, though with less enthusiasm. “Ugh.”

“UGH!” Rà repeats.

“Ugh.” Ben agrees.

They stare at each other for a moment before the boy gets shy again. Ben takes that as his cue. He ruffles Rà’s hair once more and stands up, starting to tuck the boy in around the sides. Ben knows that, once he leaves the room, Rà will get hot and immediately unearth himself – but he  _ also  _ knows that the boy sincerely enjoys this simple act of affection. So he does it.

And he makes it last longer than it needs to.

“Master Ren?”

Ben hums a response.

“Do you think that Rey would be my mom?”

Ben’s eyes flick up at the boy and he stops all movement. “Hm?”

Rà won’t meet his eyes, instead he fiddles with the sheet’s rim. “I – I never had a mom. But, I used to dream about what it would be like to have one.” His shy smile only grows as he looks towards the wall. “The person I dreamed of is exactly like Rey.”

Ben has no words, so, as usual – he remains quiet. He reaches out to pat the boy’s cheek and get his attention. As soon as those overlarge irises hit his, Ben’s cheeks dimple.

“Like I said before - any creature who gets to be near you – is  _ lucky.” _

__

__

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Dream.

Relief flows over him – a balm over the lacerated wounds of his heart.

_ A Dream. _

He doesn’t have time to move - inhale, blink, allow his  _ heart to beat _ before she’s on him – thrusting herself at him so viciously that she topples the both of them deep into the desert sand.

As he gets his bearings, she’s flitting small touches over him – as if trying to ensure that he’s really there. She pats his forehead, his cheeks, down to his shoulders and arms. Her expression morphing after each pat from a sort of frantic  _ need  _ to one of profound gratefulness.

It’s only a moment before her voice breaks into a sort of sob, and her face floods with heavy tears. She grabs onto him, urging him into a crushing embrace and he wraps his arms around her, hushing her.

“So lonely, Ben. I’ve been so  _ lonely.”  _ Her voice is on-edge, panicky, as she keeps reaffirming her grip around him. Tugging him in tighter, and tighter still.

“I was always alone – I was  _ always  _ alone – but the past year has been with the Resistance, or with Finn or Chewie… I haven't been on my own for so  _ long... _ and I – I just…”

He nods into her, understanding what this pain must have been like for her. After all – he’d lived this sorrow through her body in their shared memories.

“I tried to keep you company. I did.”

Her hands are in his hair as she draws him back, looking at him through her bleary eyes. Her face holds a pained smile. “You did. I heard you.”

She blinks at him for a moment before she dives in and kisses him, chastely, only to clutch at him and  _ squeeze _ him once more. “Please get me out of here, Ben. Please take us somewhere else.”

“Does it need to have water?”

He feels her forehead scrub back and forth into the arch of his neck, “It just needs to have  _ you.” _

He floods with his love for her. “Fair enough.”

And, with that, the heat of the day melts away and he feels a soft, cool, silkiness form under his fingers. The tenseness fades from the muscles in her body as she takes in the change in the atmosphere.

Still holding her close, he softly asks, “What’s your favorite? Out of all the places that I’ve brought you...”

“The fancy one. The one with the music. I’d never heard - or  _ seen  _ anything like that before. And you… you made me feel beautiful.”

He remembers quite well. Smiling, he presses his lips close to her ear, “Do you want me to do it, again?”

There is a pause as he feels her fingers drift slowly over the skin at the nape of his neck. After a moment – only the slightest of hesitations – she nods once more.

He drifts his large hands to the crown of her head and, with his eyes shut, he weaves a fantasy over her. Masculine fingertips dance down the length of her hair, curling it in soft waves, dappling it with flecks of silver that catch the imaginary light.

Seeing without seeing, his palms slide down her back and over the slight curve of her hip, wrapping her in white satin – threaded with warm and precious gold. Gilding her – like a Goddess. He curls his hands around her waist to shift her away, and he hears her sigh softly. It’s only at that moment that he allows himself to open his eyes.

She’s beautiful. She’s always been beautiful. But this time, he’s here to do better than that. He’s here to make her an objet d’art.

“Close your eyes. Trust me,” is all he says, not hesitating for even a  _ moment _ to await her reply.

He sits up high onto his knees and caresses her with one hand, his thumb pressing against the column of her throat. Looking at her now, she seems so helpless. Blind, subdued, emotional and achingly lonely.

It was enough to make a man ravenous.

Especially a man like him.

He moves himself down towards her in a slow gesture, drawing it out. Taking his time. There is no one to worry about anymore. No one to interrupt. No one to take her away. No one to stop them.

Their dreams are their own, now.

He makes sure she feels his hot breath on her. Makes  _ sure  _ that he counts the increase in her heartbeats as they flutter against his grip.

She is the canvas, and he is her painter.

“Don’t move.” His voice is soft, but there is a heady threat in his command, even so. She  _ almost  _ nods – but catches herself at the last moment. “Good girl,” he whispers against her.

He dips his tongue onto her lips and she gasps slightly – reflex making her tip away, but his grip on her throat tightens and she  _ submits. _

Each inch of skin he caresses with his mouth seems to spark to life, flushing with the natural colors of arousal with an extra  _ touch _ from the near-magic he winds around her.

Her lips are now aflame with a rose hue as he moves on to her cheeks. He doesn’t kiss her, no… he slides his lips over her. Barely there. A graze. Just enough so that she’d feel the slight tug of his skin across hers. 

Her pulse quickens again, as her cheeks blush for more than one reason. She opens her mouth to speak, and begins with, “Ky-“ but he stops her fast, praying aloud against her mouth. “Ben. Just Ben.”

He does kiss her then, but it’s soft. Unhurried. All lips and hushes and sighs. Before he knows it, she’s trembling. Maybe he is, too.

Their kiss breaks and he brings his hands up, placing them over her cheeks, thumbs resting on her eyelids. In a delicate motion, he drags his thumbs over her - lining her lashes with a deep forest green. As she sits in supplication before him, he paints her with stardust, her skin nearly glowing from every freckle. She puts all Royalty to shame.

If she had stood at the head of the First Order, he would have draped her in crimson and nightshade – her figure a black fantasy in his stark white bedroom. But that wouldn’t have been real. That wouldn’t have been  _ his  _ Rey.

_ His Rey  _ is dressed in whites, greens and golds with hems split up high enough to let her move freely.

_ His Rey  _ is flushed with desire and longing, because being apart from him was too painful.

_ His Rey… _

… and his mind stops there.

His. Rey.

“Open your eyes.”

And when she does, it's like his heart splits open. No one has ever looked at him the way she’s looking at him now. Her love for him exists. It’s real. This bond between them is real. This _moment_ is real...

But it’s not.

Not really.

His expression must have faltered, because she looks a little shy – even a bit… hurt – as she turns from him, likely in misunderstanding. He catches her chin and tips her back in his direction, once more.

“I love you.”

The look on her face echoes his feelings and he kisses her softly, again and again, the tips of his fingers keeping her chin to the sky.

“Ben?”

He hums against her mouth.

“Something is… wrong. I feel it. In your mind. You’re about to do something dangerous, aren’t you?”

Ice settles within him; the good feelings withering. He did not intend to have this conversation and grits his jaw in disappointment.

Understanding that he doesn’t plan to respond, she presses on. “You have to be careful. I can’t help this time. Without Finn’s connection, I won’t be able to...” she gestures aimlessly, “… get  _ through,  _ I don’t think.”

He sits beside her unceremoniously. “You won’t need to.”

She moves on him, as if to say something pert, and he just shakes her off. Unfortunately, she’s grown much more in-tune with his moods; when to push and when to pull. That gives her a considerable edge when it comes to drawing out his words.

“I mean – I’m not saying that you need a girl to protect you…”

He narrows his eyes at her. “Stop.”

“… all I’m saying is that I  _ have been known  _ to save you…”

“I  _ asked you _ to stop.”

“… well, I mean, not just  _ you-  _ but, like,  _ the whole Galaxy  _ so there is that…”

He eyes her petulantly.

She grins, but gives in. “I’ll stop.”

He huffs in his annoyance and turns away.

Passing the time until his sour grimace fades, Rey looks around them. It’s all faded edges. Not nearly as thought out as his other scenes. Gazing down at herself, she starts to pluck at the fabric and run her fingers over it. She’s quite obviously pleased. “This is lovely. Do I look as nice as last time?”

Annoyance visibly fading, he quirks his lips. “You look nice all the time,” and she rolls her eyes at him.

Making an interesting expression, she reaches around to grasp at the lacings he’d placed at her back. As an amiable silence settles between them, he tries not to grin while she struggles to figure out what the backside of a corset is, with no frame of reference. 

He loves her.  _ Gods  _ how he loves her. 

He looks at his fingers, clasped together in his lap. “I’m going to save you.”

She smiles. “I know,” but doesn’t change her position, still struggling to hook her fingers into the lacing behind her.

Ben smiles, softly. “My ‘something dangerous’ – I’m going to ask the Force how to save you.”

She hooks a single thumb, and it keeps her elbow tweaked at an odd angle. “Ask how? Do you know how many hours I floated rocks and chanted, ‘Be with Me’ at the sky only to have the Force properly tell me to piss off?”

He snorts, eyeing her, “Do you… do you want me to just…?”

“Unhook me?”

“Unhook you.”

She considers. “Please.”

He chuckles and does so, unlacing the bodice he’d just made for her with only a smattering of regret. Once off, she thrusts out a sigh of relief, leaning comically to the side. He can’t help but pout a little.

“I thought it looked nice.”

“That’s because you didn’t have to try to breathe in it.”

He smirks, “Okay. I’ll add that to the list of ‘fake clothes to not make Rey wear’.”

She eyes him, sarcastically. “You’re getting funnier, you know.”

“Pppft.”

“You are.”

“Nonsense.”

“I blame, CL, honestly.”

“CL-3667. He prefers when you say all six syllables of his name.”

They look at each other for a moment, both with their eyebrows quirked, before cracking up together. Her giggles even out as she settles deeper into the cocoon of material he’d made for her. “So, I was wrong then – no danger.”

“No, there is definitely danger.”

“How?  _ When… _ what is this stuff, by the way? It feels amazing!”

“Satin.”

“It’s so nice – but  _ when _ did communing with the Force become  _ dangerous?” _

Ben curls one leg up, knee towards his chest, and wraps his arms around it. “It depends on how deep you have to go to get your answers.”

Still facing the sky, she quirks a lip at him. “You sound like one of the Jedi texts.”

“Or like a Holocron.”

Understanding dawns on her in that moment. She sits up, unnecessarily gorgeous clothing bunching all around her. “What did you find?”

He rests his chin on his kneecap and dips a toe carefully into the conversation. “A technique. Used by both sides of the Force. It helps you commune when you need answers. Life and death answers.”

She snorts, daintily picking at her dress and fluffing it around her. “I wish I had that Holocron.”

He grins, leaning towards her. “Oh, yes, I think we’re all aware that things may have gone differently if  _ you _ had that Holocron.”

She closes her eyes and nods in self-serving satisfaction, smirking primly, before getting back on topic. “How do you do it, then? What’s dangerous about it?”

He pulls his expression into a frown. “You’re closest to the Force when you pass into it…”

She nods, “When you die.”

And he nods back at her.

And she waits for him to continue.

And waits.

It clicks and she sputters,  _ “What?” _

“It’s called the Depravation Ritual.”

“Ben,  _ no.” _

“In the Light side, you starve yourself of food and water…”

_ “Stop.” _

“… and you start to  _ wither,  _ bringing your life close to an end and letting you commune more deeply with the Force.”

“But that could take  _ months.” _

“Ah, but not with the  _ Dark  _ side version. That’s  _ much  _ faster. Minutes.”

“How?”

“Air. Or blood.”

And with that, all conversation dies. He can see the steady thrum of her heartbeat in the pulse points on her body. Her pupils are dilated. Her breathing is shallow.

She’s terrified.

“CL-3337 will help me. He’s already agreed.”

“What if things go wrong?”

He speaks with a confidence that he doesn’t feel. “Nothing will go wrong.”

Her eyes fill with tears, panicking again at the thought of abandonment. She’s up on her knees in a flash and grasping him by the shoulders. “But I just  _ found you. _ I’ve been alone my WHOLE LIFE and, without knowing it, I was waiting for  _ you.  _ You told me that I wasn’t alone. Don’t you LEAVE ME ALL ALONE!”

His heart aches. He hadn’t expected this – although, perhaps he should have.

She rears back to shove him, but he catches her before she can put her weight into it. “You won’t be alone, Rey. You  _ won’t.” _

She struggles against him and thrashes her body to escape his grasp, trying to move towards him – away from him? He’s not sure… and neither is she. They push-pull frantically between each other, crying out a chant, “Please don’t leave me alone!” and a refrain of, “You’ll never be alone, you’ll  _ never  _ be alone.”

It’s only, finally, when the words break the pattern that all motion ceases: “It has to be  _ you.” _

She falls slack in his arms. He can’t see her face through the glittering waves of her hair, but he hears her wet sniffle. “It doesn’t matter who else is there. Finn. Chewie. Leia. Master Skywalker. It doesn’t matter."

He tips her in his arms in order to move the hair away from her face. “I don’t understand.”

Her laugh is a harsh bark, but one filled with longing none-the-less. “It has to be  _ you. _ Without you, I’ll be alone. Being around people doesn’t mean I’m not isolated. Especially when I’m used to you being in my head, picking through all my secrets.”

Her thoughts echo his verbatim. They really are one soul, split cruelly into two bodies.

He smiles at her, but it’s a sad sort of smile.

And she fades in his arms.

Yet, somehow, his resolve only strengthens. He has to bring her back - and this is the only way. To him, this is the Right. Thing. To. Do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CL-3337 shakes his shoulders out and jogs-in-place on the durasteel floor, puffing a little bit. He hasn’t been keeping up with his training, and it shows. Humans in space, man, their bones just aren’t made for it. So you’ve gotta train  _ hard  _ and you’ve gotta train  _ right. _

That’s what he used to tell his platoon. He’d push them through blood, sweat and tears if it meant even one more trooper came home after each mission. They dropped like flies so frequently that he was almost numb to it. Sometimes, he didn’t even bother learning their call signs – especially if they looked  _ weak _ . Like one that would get picked off quick.

After… well…  _ after…  _ when he’d been removed from his platoon and assigned to the Jedi Killer’s detail, the best part was that fewer people died. Much, much fewer. So few that he could start remembering names again.

It was still war, and there was still loss – but Kylo Ren was like a vengeful God, and his power shielded them, in turn.

In CL’s mind, he’d always wondered what the man behind the mask looked like. He’d pictured someone harsh. Jagged. Deformed. Someone with reptilian eyes and nothing but slaughter on his mind. Someone you would be terrified of, if he wasn’t on  _ your side. _

Hell – you could still be terrified of him, even if he  _ was  _ on your side.

CL-3337 was a soldier. Even now, he’s a soldier. Admiring physical strength, tactical intelligence, chain of command – they were ground into him since he’d arrived at the First Order. But he had more than just respect – and more than even admiration – for the Darksider. Call it a sort of... fascination.

At first, he thought he was just in awe of the Force. He’d never seen it. Knew it was true, knew it existed, but never really _ understood _ until he saw it. That awe was, and is, real.

Then, he thought it was the mythos behind the man. Who was he? Where did he come from? It’s not even that no one knew – it’s that it seemed to be shrouded in secrecy. Who was Kylo Ren? Who were the  _ Knights  _ of Ren?

The Jedi Killer was one of them, but also... not. 

_ No one _ was close to him, really. There was no one he even spoke to if he didn’t require them to do something. Violent temper. Sharp and sarcastic wit. Beyond bravery into a sort of suicidal recklessness. 

CL-3337 debated whether or not the man required  _ food  _ or  _ sleep. _ It was easy to make up imaginary stories about what went on beneath that mask. The sordid past he must have lived.

But what really hit CL-3337 was the conversation he’d overheard in the command deck of the Finalizer. This dark knight stood toe-to-toe with the red-headed demon-general. That one conversation when Ren had casually accused Hux of being capable of treason – and mentioned a preference towards the use of a clone army as opposed to Hux’s cruel and flawed program.

CL-3337’s mind had dipped into fancy at that point.

Because then they wouldn’t have to take the kids anymore.

That was when he  _ really  _ started watching the Darksider. Looking for motives and moments of insight into whatever existed within the man. 

When the mask had come off, if only for that brief moment in time on Crait, the bogeyman had turned out to be… a young man. This was not the grizzled monster CL-3337 had imagined in his mind. Scarred, maybe – but… human.

All too human.

And when the object of his fascination ascended to Supreme Leader, the trooper watched him even  _ harder –  _ because Kylo Ren was changing. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there suddenly seemed to be a new purpose behind the re-masked man. A change in his driving force, if you’ll forgive the pun.

Then, when CL-3337 saw him willing to bare his face for the Jedi girl, he was stunned. The dark man’s eyes had been transformed, now gleaming with emotions beyond rage. Instead they held reverence, hope and a certain  _ longing. _

CL-3337 knew those looks. He’d been the recipient of looks like that, in a time long-past.

His desire to protect his leader morphed in that moment, somehow. It weaved itself into the desire that  _ love should win _ in the end. His Supreme Leader was always aloof, angry, raging – but, in that moment, the man in the hangar was none of that. Instead, he was clearly in love. 

In love with the  _ Jedi girl. _

Suddenly, the past months of watching the Supreme Leader’s behavior-change fell into place. They were star-crossed. How CL-3337’s heart had squeezed. If only he could wish a special sort of courage over to them – a courage to overcome their obstacles. Convince them to escape. Run away together.

Just as he should have done, when he had his chance.

It’s because of this feeling in him – this  _ pleading _ hope that he prepares himself now to do something antithetical to his very being.

He’s going to kill the man he’d devoted his life to trying to keep safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Across the room, Finn eyes the boy as he kicks his small feet back and forth in the common room, humming and thinking himself alone. He’s inhaling something food-based as if he’d been  _ starved _ before. Just shoving it in and barely chewing. Looking at the stockpile of empty wrappers, this kid’s stomach must be endless, and Finn can’t help but be amused.

“Hey,” he announces himself.

Rà  _ shifts  _ in a blur and spins, putting his arms up to guard his face in a wince and Finn’s head suddenly burns with a heavy buzzing noise. He can’t help but lower his head and make a small grunt, but it seems to only  _ amp  _ the sound.

The boy is chanting, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” but Finn has no idea what he’s sorry for.

“Please – no… it’s okay,” he grits out, rubbing at his temples. He can barely concentrate – somewhere, whispering out beyond the noise, the boy’s voice echoes – a rhythm. A pattern... but Finn can’t make it out. The edges of things seem to be  _ blurring. _

Just as he thinks he’s about to pass out, the feeling holding a vice-grip on his mind  _ loosens.  _ The boy is clasping his fists together in front of his mouth in something that looks like prayer; eyes closed. His lips move, but Finn can’t understand.

After a moment, the feeling subsides completely, and Finn lets his body cascade into the nearby seating, breathing out sharply, “What was that?!”

The boy keeps his eyes closed and raises his clasped hands to his forehead. “I’m sorry.” Barely a whisper.

Finn’s head lolls back for a moment, as he tries to regain his equilibrium.

When Rà turns to look at him, finally… sadly... he says, “She wants to see you, Mister Finn, sir.”

She? ...Rey. 

He nods. Taking a breath he stands slowly, wary of how the boy’s eyes watch his every move. He injects every ounce of kindness that he can into his voice.

“Will you take me? To see her?”

The boy’s eyes light up. “I get to come?”

Finn nods again with a relieved smirk. “Yeah. Please.”

Finn needs to make peace. He needs to say goodbye, but without saying goodbye. To tell her he’s sorry. To tell her he misses her. Tell her he loves her. Just in case.

Even so, he chooses to believe that Ren will succeed. If Rey and  _ Palpatine _ couldn’t kill that Bastard, then nothing can. Not even himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben goes over the equipment with CL. Over and over again, reading through the manuals and drilling him on everything. Practicing threading needles through tubing as Ben chugs water to expand his veins for an easier puncture.

“Why are we doing the blood option? Asphyxiation seems so much… cleaner.”

“Yeah, and inherently riskier. If I bleed out and die – I  _ bleed out _ and  _ die. _ If you resuscitate me after I’ve been deprived of oxygen for too long – I’ll be brain damaged.”

“Drain bammaged?” CL tries to make light, but Ben doesn’t hear the joke.

“I imagine having ‘no Jedi’ is better than an ‘eternally-comatose’ one. That would be  _ counterproductive.” _

Ben jumps up to check the machinery one more time, then lines up the antiseptics and other accouterments, an acrid taste rising in his throat and a deep fear he can’t quite shake.

This will be like when they bled him on Dathomir.

Finn breaks his train of thought, entering the room and clearing his throat. “It’s like a funeral in here.”

CL nearly chokes. “Jeez, asshole! What the…?”

Finn holds his hands up to ward off evil. “Kidding! I was just kidding! I meant – ‘it’s very serious in here’?”

“Why wouldn’t it be  _ serious  _ you piece of-“

“Where’s Rà?” Ben cuts in.

Finn tips his head to the side, towards the gangway and the exit. “He’s stalking Chewie. I think the kid thinks he’s a life-size teddy bear or something.”

Ben looks Finn right in the eyes. “And he doesn’t know?”

Finn shakes his head. “Neither of them do.”

Confused, CL asks, “Why can’t the Wookie know?”

“Because he wouldn’t let Ren do it if he found out.”

Ben huffs. “He may hate me – but, my uncle can still be fairly protective.”

CL’s head whips around. “Your  _ WHAT?” _

Finn grins. “Yeah, there’s a story there. Get him to tell you before he dies.”

Ben grimaces as Finn approaches him. “Thank you for your vote of confidence, General.”

Finn looks at him with a smirk and  _ claps  _ him hard on the shoulder. Ben is about to growl when Finn pushes a thought into his mind.

_ I know you can do this. _

Ben’s eyebrows rise. “You’re getting better at that, I see.” 

Finn preens. Ben decides to push back a thought of his own, teaching Finn in pictures how to calm the boy. Finn’s grin dies on his face and his expression grows hard.

“Don’t do that.”

Ben smirks, self-deprecatingly. “Get out of your head, right?” 

“No.” Finn leans in, voice dropping low. “Don’t you assume that you’ll fail.”

They share a moment before Ben just nods. Finn nods back and steps away, towards the door, smacking CL off the back of the head on his way out. “You’ve got this, CL-3.3.3.7.”

“Finally!” The trooper raises his hands to the sky.

With a chuckle, Finn ducks out the door tapping his temple. “If I don’t hear from you by sundown, I’ll make an assumption.”

And then he’s gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s going to shit himself. No – strike that – he already took care of that problem – he’s going to puke, instead. His hands start to shake as he wipes down everything, sterilizing it all. Himself included.

_ Soldier up. Soldier up. Soldier. Up. _

The mantra is on repeat as CL-3337’s heart starts to steady and the crisp focus of adrenaline settles into his body. He can do this. In truth, with field medic training, this is all very simple.  Hook RN in, tap him – like a keg. Let the machine do its work, draining him. Storing his life’s blood for safe keeping.

Wait.

And just keep on waiting.

Wait until he goes through the symptoms. All of them. Don’t give in. Don’t puss out. Don’t stop.

Until his heart does.

Then, flip the switches. ALL the switches.  Fill him back up like a balloon.

CPR. Shock paddles.

And prayer.

He can do this.

He can  _ do this. _

_ Soldier up. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a sort of calm that falls over Ben. An eerie sort of tranquility as CL swabs him up, the cool liquid chilling the soft inside of his elbow before the trooper starts to tap in search of a good vein.

“Do you want to pee before we do this?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’ve been tanking back the water. You know that your bladder empties itself when you die, right?”

Again, “I’m  _ sorry?” _

CL smirks, “And the backside, too.”

Ben scoffs, unsure of what else to do. The needle twinkles in CL’s hands, even under the florescent lights of the med bay. The trooper looks at Rey and then looks back over to Ben. “You ready to do this?”

And Ben nods. More than once.

“Let’s get this show on the road, then.”

A pinch. So slight it’s not even worth talking about. Especially for a man that’s been through as much physical pain as Ben Solo / Kylo Ren has. Still, the strange feeling of blood being drawn from his body leaves Ben with an eerie desire to be quiet.

But, as usual, CL is having none of that. 

“How in God’s name is the Wookie your  _ uncle?” _

Ben snorts. “Obviously, he’s not my  _ real  _ uncle. My father didn’t have any siblings (that I know of). Chewie and… dad - they were best friends. I spent a portion of my childhood with them - in this ship, actually.”

Shaking his head slightly, the trooper tsks. “It’s hard to imagine someone like you having a father. Someone like you should have just, I dunno, appeared out of thin air one day. I can’t even picture you as a kid.”

“Just picture really big eyes. And…  _ enormous _ ears.”

That gets him a chuckle.

“No. I definitely had a father. And a mother. And a real name, before I was – what I was.” Ben smirks for a moment before it fades to a distant look.

CL adjusts the needle, pulling it back out and back in again slightly as he releases the tourniquet on Ben’s upper arm with a snap. “Care to share?”

Ben huffs out an uneasy laugh. “Snoke made it so that the name could never be spoken. Struck it from all records. It’s... strange to say it out loud, after so many years of it being taboo, but…” he shakes his head slightly, testing the words in his mind. “It’s Ben. Ben Solo.”

CL’s eyebrows knit together, as if trying to recall something, but Ben picks up where his mind is going and completes the puzzle for him.

“I’m the son of the Rebel heroes, Han Solo and Leia Organa. I am the nephew of Luke Skywalker, the Jedi who helped take down the Empire.”

The trooper’s eyes are wide, and he opens his mouth to say something – but words fail him. Ben shifts uncomfortably in the silence, ashamed. Not of his name, but of having lost it for so long.

“Didn’t Organa…?"

“Lead the Resistance against Snoke? Against us? Yes. Yes, she did.”

There is another silence.  Ben’s head starts to feel a little fuzzy, but he knows that’s exactly as it should be. “Don’t call me by my name in mixed company. I think the alliance – and the Galaxy – knows that Ben Solo and Kylo Ren are the same person. It will only cause… unnecessary trouble.”

A thermometer passes over Ben’s forehead, which is prickled a little with a cold sweat now. CL reads the metric quickly, nodding at the expected result. “RN works for me. Or – Ren, if you prefer.”

Ben doesn’t bother answering.

“If you want, you can shorten my call sign. Just CL.” His eyes turn stern. “But only you. In private.  _ Not _ the Trash Man.  _ Or _ the kid. I have no idea what the Wookie calls me, so I don’t suppose it matters.”

Ben snorts a small laugh. “Soldier. He calls you ‘Soldier’ in Shyriiwook.”

CL nods. “Acceptable.”

The trooper tosses his thin braid over his shoulder with a flick of his head, so he won’t contaminate his hands as he fingers Ben’s pulse. It’s fluttering a bit. Not quite hammering – but a sort of staccato dance, nonetheless.

“You know – you’re spacer pale normally, but somehow you’re even whiter, now. Like – almost blue.”

“It’s on the list of symptoms,” Ben pants a little, a faint smile crossing his lips before a wave of nausea sweeps through him. He feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck and adjusts his head against the pillow to wick it away.

There is a silence that wraps around them. With a sad sort of shake of his head, CL speaks in a low voice, turning his gaze towards the floor. “You told me yours, so I’ll tell you mine.”

Ben closes his eyes. He already knows this sad story – but there are some things better left unsaid. He lets the man tell him again – but this time, the trooper tells him on purpose… and  _ Kylo Ren _ will not have to wipe the memory away.

“You probably know this, but, in the Order, all the lower-ranking women are fixed - so command can look the other way when troopers go against the rules and…  _ fraternize. _ They’d let it go as long as it seemed to be... transactional. We weren’t allowed to ‘pair-bond’, as they called it.

“Still – she was beautiful. I thought so even when I hadn’t seen her out of her helmet, yet. A kind of… gracefulness in her movements. She’d just been assigned to my platoon and,” he grins, “I even thought her call sign was beautiful. LL-8182. Elle. My Elle.” The man’s grin fades to a smile, then to nothing. He swallows.

“She was the one who started calling me CL in private. To everyone else, I was always just ‘Sir’. Which was the appropriate thing, really. But she was… irreverent. Like me, I guess. 

“When I finally saw her without her mask… I thought I’d died a little bit. Her eyes sent me straight to heaven.”

Ben pants in little harsh breaths. “Corny.”

“Oh yes. Very much so.” CL’s smile returns.

“We’d try to be sly about it – but the platoon figured it out. Though, by then, I was so head over heels that it was too late to stop. The only thing I could think to do was: be harsher towards her. No special treatment. The opposite. Extra laps. More reprimands. And she agreed. Anything to make it seem less… obvious – because we didn’t want to stop. I think that, maybe, that hardened me against her in some ways. Unless we were in a closet or locked away somewhere with our masks off, I treated her as if she were someone else. Someone I didn’t even like. I didn’t mean to – it just sort of  _ happened. _

“Superior officers figured it out anyway, though. I was about to go to a briefing, but I was about 0015 early. I overheard their suspicions about us. I heard them talk about… reconditioning me.” His voice vibrated with distaste. “Do you know what happens to you when they do that?”

Ben feels the faintness falling on him, but struggles to stay with CL in this moment. “What happens?”

“It’s not  _ you  _ that comes back. It looks like you – but it doesn’t walk like you, talk like you or fight like you anymore. You get reconditioned?  _ You –  _ whatever it is that makes you  _ you –  _ dies. 

“You spend all your time on the battlefield with two objectives: Kill and Live. I wanted to  _ live. _

“They set up a test for me, all while I listened outside that door. They were sending part of my squad on a suicide mission. They made a list of who would go; spared me the decision - but, they put her on it. 

“If I made her go – I passed the test. If I pulled her off – reconditioning. Seems I put her life and mine on a scale, and my life won.

“When I told the ones who were going, they all had their helmets on. I didn’t see even one of their faces. They knew they weren’t coming back – so I was happy to not  _ have _ to see them. You could tell from their body language, though. The defeat. The anger. When I looked in her direction, though, she… just nodded at me. She accepted it like she did any of the other punishments I sent her way.

“After they left, I was – upset. So much that I got reassigned to  _ you,  _ in fact… but before then, I was a miserable P.O.S.

“One of the troops – JL-9558, I think, asked me if I was sad. Not angry, as I’d been acting – but  _ sad _ . I told her I was fine, of course, and wiped whatever goddamned look I must have had off my face. She told me that it was  _ for the best _ . That if the Order found out about the baby, they would have reconditioned her. At least now, she got to die as  _ her. _

“But I barely heard any of that. All I heard was…” his voice broke, “baby.”

Ben waits for a moment, saying nothing, while CL gathers himself.

“JL – she realized I didn’t know. She told me that Elle's reproductive system  _ still worked. _ They had botched up her procedure, somehow. That all the women helped hide her bleeds so that the Officers wouldn’t hurt her. She was shocked that  _ I  _ didn’t know. That I hadn’t found out somehow… but I guess Elle had been ashamed about it enough to hide it. 

“Since we aren’t trained to breed – and we’re not supposed to  _ be able to – _ we didn’t quite know how to avoid it either, I guess.” He laughs, but the laugh is  _ dark. _

“I wondered… I  _ still  _ wonder… when she died, did she soldier up and just fall back on her training? Thinking of nothing except the battle? Did she die hating my guts? Wishing I’d done something different? 

“Or… the worst option,” he sniffs a wet sound back once more. “The option that is likely the  _ truth…  _ was that she died loving me. Not blaming me. Understanding. Just like she always did.” CL leans his head to the side and raises his shoulders up to wipe his eyes without using his hands.

Ben’s head swims, but he focuses. He’s so weak. His stomach tenses with an intense cramp and he grinds his jaw while it passes. His instincts want him to draw on the Dark side. Push away all this pain. But no – he has to let himself feel it.

Just like he feels CL’s pain.

“She had sandy brown hair, just like the kid – which is why it freaked me out so bad to see him walk onto the ship. I always thought to myself – what would it have been like, if our baby had a chance to be born? A boy? A girl? What would it look like? Would it have her amazing eyes? Would it have been trapped in the First Order, too?

“And that’s what I think about every time _ Finn _ shortens my name. I think about her. And how she’s not alive. And how I have no right to pretend that I’m okay with someone else using her name for me.”

Ben thinks for a minute. It’s hard – it’s hard to put together a coherent thought. “I think just ‘CL’ suits you perfectly.”

The trooper sniffs and looks at him, eyes red-rimmed and depressed.

“There is a word… I… I can’t think of what language it is – but the word is ‘Ciel’. It means, ‘sky’. To me – when I look up at the sky from planet-side, all I can see is endless potential. Infinity.

“That’s why that name is perfect for you. Your path isn’t over. You still have  _ infinite possibilities. _ I… that’s what I think, any… anyway… Maybe she thought so, too.”

CL grabs onto his hand, squeezing it almost painfully. Their eyes connect as the trooper tells him, “Finding you again – making the choice to come  _ with you –  _ it’s been one of the best choices I ever made.”

He squeezes the trooper’s hand, weakly. Feebly. 

But then Ben goes down.

He goes down  _ hard. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He reels a little as the scenery fogs in around him. He can’t make anything out – just mists of color. Tans and beiges and metallics.

“Hey, Ben!” comes a surprisingly chipper voice from behind him. He startles; it’s rare for anyone to be able to approach him unnoticed – though, he supposes he’s not under normal circumstances.

A young boy ducks around him until they’re standing face to face. He’s tan, wrapped in bland colors, and his hair is a dirty blonde with heavy bangs that cover his forehead. Without another word, the boy jumps up onto something – only to have that ‘something’ turn into a resting stone of some kind. He settles down immediately, seemingly very happy.

The child waves his hand in Ben’s direction, beckoning to him over. “C’mon, Ben! Come over! I’ve wanted to talk to you for a  _ long time, _ believe me. I’ve been waiting for you.” He pats his hand down next to him, an invitation to sit.

Ben walks over, awed. “Are you… the Force?”

The boy lets out a laugh. “Gods, no.” His eyes twinkle on Ben’s; oddly – wise, somehow.

“Who are-?” Ben starts, but the boy cuts him off with a gesture.

“Wait – just wait – look! This is the first time I ever saw her!” His hands are waving wildly to the blurred scenery before them. The color solidifies until Ben can see the inside of a sort of store.

A girl walks in. Teenage, maybe? Beautiful. Almost regal in her bearing. Large eyes, dark and waving hair.

The boy smiles wistfully and with a longing that confuses Ben. “The first time I saw her – I told her she looked like an angel.” The boy smiles at Ben, more joyfully this time, as he curls his knees up to his chest in a familiar gesture. “Doesn’t she look like an angel?”

Ben quirks an eyebrow. “A little old for you, isn’t she?”

The boy scoffs in return. “There’s less of an age difference between her and I than there is between you and Rey.”

Shock and confusion run through Ben’s mind in equal measure, which only seems to widen the boy’s grin. “You know her?”

The boy nods, fast and earnest. “Oh, yes.”

Ben leans in closer, asking again,  _ “Who are you?” _

Dirty-blonde-boy just places his hand on Ben’s shoulder, “You’ll figure it out. It’s probably confusing because I came to you as a kid. I figured you’d ease into it better this way. You like little kids, huh? They’re not scary. Don’t upset you. Can’t hurt you.”

Ben’s eyebrows knit, “I don’t know what you’re-“

The hand on his shoulder starts to  _ pat _ as the boy barks out a laugh. “Yeah, sure, Ben.”

The scenery behind him  _ shifts  _ and the colors are blurring again. Ben sees historical figures float before him. Master Yoda and… is that… Mace Windu? Qi-Gon Jinn and… a young Obi-Wan Kenobi; his namesake. The man’s padawan braid is still intact. How  _ old _ is this memory?

They all seem to be staring at Ben and the boy, but also – not. Their voices are concerned, but Ben can’t make out what they’re saying. He tries to rise up, but the boy grabs his arm and makes to pull him back down again.

Ben gestures faintly towards the scene and quirks an eyebrow.

“It’s okay. They’re just talking about how I have ‘much fear’ and shouldn’t be a Jedi.” The boy pauses, “In hindsight, they were right. But – evidently there was some  _ prophecy  _ about me that got me in, anyway.” The boy blows air up, fluttering his bangs and rolling his eyes.  _ “You  _ know what that’s like.  _ Prophecies.” _

Ben’s voice is contemplative. “You mean the Dyad?”

The boy nods, pleased. “You got the better deal of the two of us. Prediction-wise.”

The scene shifts once more. Obi-Wan is older now. Bearded. Scruffy. Unmistakably the same man, though. He’s nervously looking around, but a young, dark-clad padawan steps up to him and Obi-Wan’s expression smooths immediately. Ben can’t see this newcomer’s face, so he leans to the side to try to see better - but the boy stops him again with a laugh.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. That’s just me.”

Ben’s eyebrows rise nearly over his forehead, incredulously, as he looks from the boy to that dark back again. “You?” He nearly laughs.

The boy looks annoyed. “Are you questioning the Force?”

Ben raises his hands in a gesture of peace. “No.”

“Good,” the boy says, petulantly as he rests his chin on his knee.

They sit for a moment, letting the soundless and narrow movie play. Obi-Wan is smiling so warmly. Such care in his eyes as he claps this mysterious ‘all-ages’ person on the shoulder, both figures lighting their sabers and moving off and away.

“I like this memory. And all the ones like it.”

“Like what?”

The boy smiles at him, sadly. “All the ones where Obi-Wan still trusts me.” He looks back towards the scene as the more-grown-up version of him fights alongside the Jedi legend. “He was my Master, you know.”

Ben shakes his head slightly. “Obi-Wan Kenobi only ever took on one padawan and it was…” his heart stops; throat closing in on itself. His head snaps over, eyes boring into the boy’s.

His little eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as his smile runs deeper. “You can call me Ani, if you’d like.”

_ “...Grandfather?” _

The boy leans his head to the side, bangs sliding over his forehead. “Though – I have to admit that I like that, too. Now that you’re actually talking to  _ me –  _ and not someone just pretending to  _ be me.” _

Ben almost stutters but rallies, angrily. “Why didn’t  _ you  _ talk to  _ me? _ Come to me?  _ Help  _ me?”

His… grandfather’s face sours. “I don’t know how. I only manifested as a Force ghost once – at my funeral… and it was only because Obi-Wan helped me.”

A sort of fury works its way onto the boy’s face, something that reminds Ben very much of himself when he feels powerless – or inadequate. “He wouldn’t help me after that because he said it was something I had to do  _ on my own.” _ His Grandfather’s eyes turn to him in furious gravity. “But I  _ tried,  _ Ben. You have to know that I  _ tried.”  _ He gestures, almost violently, “Seems I’m stuck here in  _ Force visions.” _

The boy closes his eyes and steadies himself. It takes a good, long minute. 

“I didn’t die strong enough in the Light to be able to do it, and it’s nearly impossible to learn new tricks  _ here.  _ I was always too  _ selfish _ to use the Light as well as I could the Dark,” his young voice almost a growl. 

The scene in front of them morphs again – and the version of his young Grandfather in black is staring at that lovely girl. The boy's face softens. “Selfish. Even with her. Even though Jedi aren’t supposed to get attached, even though I knew it would only cause her pain – I seduced her. I wouldn’t admit to it, then – not even to myself – but I did.”

The lovely girl becomes a woman, dressed in elaborate white lace. “We married in secret, and I coveted her like a prize. Needed to have every inch of her…  _ completely. _ Just for me.  _ No one else. _ But, we had to be silent about it – otherwise, someone would make us stop. Or, even worse somehow, I would no longer have been able to be a Jedi. Could no longer showcase my power to wield the Force. To keep those who would do harm in line. To defeat them. Show the Jedi council I could live up to the damned  _ prophecy.” _

“What prophecy?”

The boy looks at him with an angry and sarcastic expression. “To ‘Bring Balance to the Force’.” He snorts, derisively. “Which I  _ did,  _ just not in the way any of them wanted.”

Ben is lost. “How did  _ you _ bring  _ Balance?” _

The boy’s look is cruel as he gazes out on his marriage scene. “There were too many  _ Jedi.” _

They both settle back in an uncomfortable silence.

“I had no empathy for others, back then. It was always about me - though I had convinced myself that it was for other people. I see now that I viewed the galaxy through my own needs, desires… and pain. In the end, no one else really mattered to me, other than myself… and anyone who could give me the promise of ‘more’. More love, more influence, more loyalty… more  _ power.” _

Morose, the boy continues, “You’re selfish, too, Ben. Like me. That’s why you can’t move forward.”

Ben knits his eyebrows together and shakes his head. “No. Not anymore.”

The child Anakin Skywalker scoffs at him. “Aren’t you?”

Ben looks at him solidly, challenging him, but the boy is not cowed in the slightest. 

“People didn’t give to you, Ben – so you had to take. If love and attention were ropes attached to another person’s body – you had to  _ strangle  _ and  _ rip  _ those ropes towards yourself to even gain a single inch. You’ve been taking forcibly for so long that you don’t know how to stop. You don’t even realize you’re doing it.”

Shaking his head, denying it completely. Ben grits out, “You’re  _ wrong.” _

The boy sits up straight, fearless. “You claim to love Rey – but when she  _ begged you  _ not to do this, you didn’t even consider her feelings. You doubled down. This is not  _ for her. _ This is because  _ you  _ can’t stand to be  _ without  _ her.

“You claim to want to protect the boy. But you’re not doing it for him. He’s filling that need  _ you have; _ your desire to be a ‘Master’ to someone. Anyone. It doesn’t really matter who it is. The boy was just the most  _ open to the idea. _ But, even then, as soon as the opportunity presented itself, you became willing to abandon him for something you found to be more important.”

Ben hisses, “I didn’t  _ abandon him.  _ He’s with-“

“He wants  _ you,  _ Ben. Don’t try to absolve yourself from what you’re doing. Look at it. SEE it. 

“What about CL-3337? Have you given anything other than a laugh or two – or have you just  _ taken? _ Like you took his memories?”

Ben winces.

“And Finn? The man is your safety net and he suffers. His whole life has been filled with suffering – but you don’t even care to notice. You’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider that anyone else has struggles that may be as important as your own.”

Ben presses his hands into his hair, pulling at the roots slightly. Anxiety ramping in him, shame flooding through him. 

“And  _ your uncle…” _

“Enough!” Ben begs. His eyes are rammed shut and his knuckles are clenched white in the strands of his hair. “You’re right. You’re  _ right.” _

A _man’s_ voice calls out to him softly, then, as he feels a warm hand encircle his wrist. “That’s it, Ben. That’s it.”

When he looks up, the boy is gone - the man speaking gently to him looks exactly as his Grandfather had in his historical records. His brown hair is wild around his face and he has a small scar lining the edge of his brow. He’s smiling, kindly. Hopefully. Ben blinks at him through wet eyes and the hand  _ squeezes  _ him once more.

“You have to  _ see  _ it, Ben. You have to see it to  _ change  _ it.”

The scene shifts, and the man’s face drifts towards it, jaw clenching. His voice is dark again. “If you don’t see it – you can’t stop it. You can’t stop  _ yourself…” _

Before them, Ben watches a mirror image of his Grandfather within the tableau, only this mirrored version has eyes that glow a venomous yellow under his billowing hood. 

The mirror-man’s hand is crooked in that tell-tale gesture as the beautiful woman who had become his wife grasps at her throat, her belly heavy-laden with what must be his mother and Skywalker. Ben stands, his muscles tense as he prepares to  _ stop this,  _ but his Grandfather glares at him and holds him steady.

“You have to finish what I started, Ben.”

He’s filled with horror, pulling his eyes back between his Grandfather’s vicious stare and his Grandmother’s weakening form.

“You have to bring Balance to the Force.”

She goes to her knees, but Ben can’t move. It’s as if he’s frozen to the spot.

“And you have to learn how to save the people that you love from dying. You need to learn how to give  _ of _ yourself, instead of just take  _ for  _ yourself.”

Ben can’t close his eyes – can’t stop seeing the woman’s small face twisted in betrayal and pain. There is Darkness here.  _ Such Darkness. _

And, for the first time ever, the Darkness breaks his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CL opens the floodgates, and Ben Solo tailspins into his body once more; gasping in the open-mouthed, stinging breaths of life.


	29. A Monster in the Galaxy

This chapter had art by [ Kasiopea](https://kasiopea-star-wars.tumblr.com/) but I'm making sure that I get permissions to use the artwork before leaving it here. :)

_________________

“You have to – you have to comm Finn,” Ben struggles for his words, gesturing slightly before his muscles let loose and his arm lands heavily back on his bedsheets. CL is dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth with a deep look of concern.

“Trash Man can handle his own for a few more minutes while I get you set up. You weren’t out for too long before I brought you back – but you know what we read. Your body is going to be pissed at you for a while.”

Ben tries to laugh, but his stomach is rigid with the urge to vomit. He reaches out and grasps CL’s forearm, eyes closing into a faint, saying a simple, “I’m sorry,” before he goes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The kid is reaching his arm up as high as possible in order to keep a hold on the Wookie’s hairy hand. He keeps looking at him like he’s a fairytale or something.

They walk around the city square until Finn finds a restaurant that looks fancy and decides to duck inside the awning. Ren gave them a ton of credits; might as well use them.

Finn needs something to distract him. This is  _ excruciating. _ It’s been about three hours since he’d left the Falcon and it’s taking every ounce of restraint he has not to go back and check on them.

Chewie moans, “Stupid Boy will be angry. Expensive here.”

Finn grimaces, yanking the door open for his entourage. “I’m sure he’ll forgive me.”

The smell inside is mouthwateringly good. Rà’s head swivels in all directions at once, taking in the rich tapestries inside with a, “Whoooaaa.” Deep, sculpted red wood lines each seating area and pillows, plush and rich with color, are on every bench.

The host looks at them with a curious suspicion, his antennae waving as his wings flutter him closer. “Sirs, please be sure to observe our menu pricing before I seat you.”

Finn knits his eyebrows. “Huh?”

Chewie chortles. “Bug thinks we’re poor.”

Finn lays on a cool smile and leans in towards the creature. “You – you may not know this about me, but… I’m kind of a big deal.” He sniffs, waiting for the flapping male to recognize him.

After a few moments of being met with a vacant stare, Finn considers elaborating – but instead chooses the easy route. “Your menu pricing is fine, thank you.” It’s all he can do not to be offended. His clothes aren’t so shabby that he shouldn’t be allowed into a nice restaurant... he thinks.

The host nods, still vaguely wary, and gestures for them to follow. Halfway through the restaurant, Finn’s comm beeps and he urges Chewie and the kid on while he steps aside, relief flooding him and releasing a tightness in his heart he didn’t even realize was there.

“Ren?” he calls into the mouthpiece – but the voice he hears isn’t one he expects. Finn tightens up again when it’s Poe, instead.

“Hey, it’s me – everything alright Buddy? You sound tense.”

Finn sighs loudly, then hits the trigger to reply back. “It’s been a tense sort of day. Week. Life.”

Poe echoes his sigh, but over the open channel. “Same here. Where are you? How quick can you get back to the Fallen First Order systems?”

Finn’s eyes narrow a bit. “Why? We’re still setting up here. Troopers came in this morning for an orientation and will job sort this afternoon. About 60% will reintegrate, but the other 40% want to move on and find other troopers around the planet. There’s  _ a lot  _ we’ve still gotta do.”

He doesn’t want to mention the supplies and equipment that still needs to be bought. Red flags all over  _ that  _ conversation. Some of the trooper transports were still usable – that could potentially do in a pinch for now, if need be.

Poe’s voice lowers to a secretive tone. “The leaders of the FFOs are already starting to – shall we say – disagree on some things. They want Ren to mediate. Asked for him specifically. He did well as the ‘voice of the people’ before – and he  _ gets  _ all this First Order stuff. The Alliance wants his help with this, too.”

“What does it matter what the FFO does? Let them split apart if they want.”

Poe’s voice takes on an edge. “Because some of them aren’t in support of the New Alliance and the guys here are getting a little  _ concerned. _ We need as many systems as possible together to keep the peace. Keep out the Hutts – help your troopers get back on the path of righteousness – you know, whatever. Bottom line is that we  _ need  _ them, and if Ren can Jedi mind trick them into agreeing, then we’ll all sleep better at night.”

Finn scoffs, “He wouldn’t do that.” Buuuut – would he??

“Well, whatever he can do would be appreciated. We don’t want  _ these  _ planets warring with each other, too. I’ve got enough on my hands with the  _ ex- _ First Order planets. They don’t know what the hell to do with themselves now and it’s still very,  _ very  _ ugly.”

Finn nods, even though Poe can’t see him. “Point taken.” He sucks his lips into a straight line, calculating quickly. “Give me two days here. We’ll take off after that and jump the hyper lane over.”

Poe huffs a deep sound. Finn can picture him running his hand over the back of his neck and shutting his eyes in frustration. “Too slow, buddy. Things are unraveling fast. Can Ren comm on visual? I can try to gather the leadership in a neutral location – there’s one planet out of them all who's not currently pissing anybody off... 

“If Ren can tell them he’s on his way to help, maybe we can avoid them going too far off the deep end.”

It’s Finn’s turn to shut his eyes. He leans his head back and his heart aches a bit. “Ren’s on a mission. It’s a dangerous one. He should be headed back by sundown – but, until then… I can’t even be sure he’s coming back.”

Poe curses. There is a long pause before he speaks again. “Keep me in the loop, huh? Let me know when you see him and what shape he’s in.”

Finn steeples his fingers over his face, pressing his pinky and thumb into his temples. “Yeah. Sure.”

“You okay, buddy?”

Finn forces a smile into his voice. “Yeah. Yeah… just worried.”

Poe laughs a little bit. “Of course. You need him to save  _ Rey.”  _ And his tone is… insinuating. Finn doesn’t feel like correcting him.

“Yeah. We definitely need him for that.”

And lots of other things, apparently.

“Alright. Check back in. Talk to you soon; I’ll send some good mojo vibes your way.”

Finn smiles for real this time. “Thanks.”

The comm cuts off and Finn looks at the over-decorated space again, but suddenly the texture is too much and he feels overwhelmed by  _ everything. _ He’d thought that, once the war was over…

Well, actually, he’d never really thought that far.

He takes a deep breath in through his nose before going to find Chewie and the kid, though he doubts he’ll be able to concentrate enough to taste the ridiculously pricey food.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re grateful to you, you know.”

The city governor, a four horned Devaronian female, nods kindly at both Finn and the Force-sensitive trooper leader. They all stand atop the staircase that leads to the tree-lined plaza, below. The fountains that spray in the air are a welcome change from the gray and blinking interior of the Falcon.

Together, they look over the trooper population as they separate themselves into skill-segmented areas. Speaking with the locals. Deciding who fits best with what. Tables have been set out and different companies and organizations have representatives, welcoming the troopers. Recruiting.

Honestly, Finn is surprised – and his face must say so.

The governor smiles at him in earnest. “I told you of our labor shortage. This could not have come at a better time. The First Order… well… they did us no favors on this planet – but, knowing that these brave souls stood up and brought down the ship that stained our sky? Well – that’s meaningful.”

The governor looks at the ex-trooper and she nods brusquely before smiling down at the activity below.

Finn returns their smiles, if only as a pleasantry. “Having been a trooper, myself, I know what they’re capable of. What they can do once they’re… given the opportunity.”

The female trooper chimes in. “It just seems  _ too good to be true. _ After being stuck on a First Order ship most of my life… these became my people. My… tribe, I guess. Seeing them have a second chance…”

Finn smiles earnestly this time, as he connects eyes with both the trooper and the red-skinned governor in agreement. “It’s too good to be true.”

The trooper nods once more, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder as they turn their attention back to the men and women who now have a new lease on life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Finn’s comm beeps again, he shoves himself into a corner to answer. “Yes?” His voice comes out more panicked than he’d intended, but he can’t help it.

The voice that crackles to life isn’t the one he wanted to hear – but he’ll take it.

“He’ll live,” CL says. The words seem simple – maybe even clipped – but Finn can hear the grin, either way.

Finn laughs over the open line before throwing one arm in the air and pumping it in celebration.

“Yeah – I know how you feel.”

“How is he?”

“Weak – which we expected. He’s passed out now. Vitals are okay-ish. Heart rate and blood pressure are pretty  _ off, _ but – who can blame them, really?”

“Thank you. Thank you for telling me – seriously. I’ve been, like…”

“Like you’re about to explode?”

Finn breathes out a held breath. “Exactly.”

“Same.”

“How long until he’s up and running?”

CL sounds like he’s pacing, Finn can almost hear boots clanging against the steel flooring. “No idea. Force stuff might make it faster – or slower? I don’t know.”

“Well, we’re going to need him up. And  _ fast.  _ The FFOs are falling apart and they want him.”

CL’s voice is sardonic. “Oh? Do they now?”

“We’ve got to get him on visual for them ASAP, so they don’t go at each other while they’re waiting for us to get there.”

“What about your troopers?”

Finn slides his eyes to the plaza where the groups that will scout the planet are rallying. There will be 3 teams – one per working transport.

“Governor will stay in touch with the heads of each squad. As they find cells, they’ll reach out; she’ll find the closest area willing to accept them. Vet them to make sure they’re not anti-trooper, first.”

“Yeah, don’t want to lead our people into a massacre.”

Finn snorts. “Bad PR.”

They pause, collecting their thoughts.

“Come on home whenever you’re ready. Bring the Wookie in to see him, first. Explain. Then calm him down. I don’t want him hitting the roof in front of the kid.”

It dawns on Finn that he’d only ever been around adults his whole life. “What are you gonna to do with Rà while I do  _ that?  _ What do you even do with _ a kid?” _

CL draws out his words, “I’llllllllllll… color pretty pictures?”

Yeah. That’s probably not a bad idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben sits up in the common area. It took the (very,  _ very _ angry) Wookie to transfer his oversized body. Ben didn’t appreciate the princess-carry. Not. One. Bit.

His body  _ hurts. _ His head is throbbing, breath is still coming too fast, and his pulse is shooting for the moon. Still – it seems he has a job to do. Story of his life – no matter the pain, there’s always a job to do.

It’s irritating that it’s only taken such a short period of time for the FFO’s relationship to fall apart.  _ This  _ is why people need to be under one strong ruler. They just simply can’t be trusted on their own. These people are used to a firm hand. Without it, they’re lost.

He runs his hands through his hair, unsure if he should push the thought away or just accept it as his point of view. It’s hard to know what Snoke put into him versus what was instilled while he watched his mother’s government in their failings.

Either way, CL futzes with his braids once more before ducking out of frame. Ben needs to look as ‘Jedi Master Ren’ as possible right now – otherwise, this might all go sideways.

When the comm screen flips on, Ben sees a delegation from the 9 life-sustaining planets; leaders and representatives of their 17 sentient races. The faces are familiar, as their dossiers from the First Order flick through his eidetic memory. He carefully considers how much to tip his hand in this regard, though he supposes he can always blame ‘knowing too much information’ on his access to the Force.

Another half-truth.

Dameron is there, but he must be off camera. The New Alliance seems wary of overstepping here.

Smart.

“Master Ren,” a Quarren called Tikk Bja speaks up from the crescent shaped table where the delegation faces the holoscreen. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. We understand that you’re on your way to help mediate our…  _ situation.” _

Ben nods, back ramrod straight despite his affliction and the increasing desire to pass out. Instinctually, he allows himself to draw on the Darkness of his pain to remain in control of his own body.

He reminds himself of his previous words.  _ It doesn’t matter what side of the Force you use – as long as your intentions are -good-.  _ Even now, that feels  _ true. _

“Yes. As a fellow ex-member of the First Order, I want to help ensure that your sister planets remain unified in purpose. Any help I can be in that regard would be an honor. It’s very admirable of you all to seek mediation as a first course of action. I’m quite impressed.” They like to be praised, if he remembers correctly.

Based on the collective expressions of the species represented, he’s remembered right. Praise from the First Order was rare, meaningful, and usually came with a hefty prize of some kind. It’s likely that the leadership here has been trained to expect a treat – even if they weren’t getting one. He’ll use that to his advantage.

Another sentient steps in; a Togruta named Ashana Lohavinath, he believes. “Master Ren, as you stood for the ‘voice of the people’ on my planet, it was  _ us  _ who specifically requested your assistance. Our leader sent me to speak on his behalf during these...  _ interesting  _ conversations, but he asked that I let you know that our people hold you in high regard.”

Through a rough voice-translating modulator, a screen-eyed Aqualish leans forward, mandibles clattering underneath the sound of Basic. “We do not want war, which is what the ‘New Alliance’ fears.” It turns its head to Dameron, who now stands motionlessly in the background.

The idiot should sit. Standing is a power play, here. Only Snoke could stand.

And Kylo Ren.

Ben agrees, “War will not treat any of you favorably. The First Order disarmed you, and only Stormtroopers protected your cities and nations. We need to focus on what has been gained from your symbiosis. I hope you will all be patient with each other, and with me, as we speak  _ and listen _ through this together.”

Another voice chimes in, a flightless Toydarian. There is a story  _ there, _ Ben bets. “We will hold our peace until you join us, eh? There is optimism we can solve these issues without embargos and our other means of  _ persuasion.  _ As long as we don’t lose hope that these negotiations will be successful, that is.”

Ah, so this one was a threat, then. Ben notes the faces of the other creatures who seem to sympathize with this statement and files the details away.

Nodding in a somber tone, doing his best not to faint in front of them, his mouth betrays him. “Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you see it, you'll never make it through the night.”

Dameron catches eyes with him then, body language shifting into attention, and Ben curses himself internally. Multiple times.

The holo clicks off and Ben lets go of his death grip on the Force, only to give in to his body’s immediate requirement to slip into unconsciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Dream.

“Ben?” she calls softly from behind. A smile spreads across his face as he feels her arms wrap around him, fingers lacing over his chest. He can almost feel her relief. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

His smile fades and he reaches up, latching his hand around her small wrist and bringing her knuckles up for a soft kiss. “In a way.”

He unravels them and turns to face her; honesty in his eyes. “I’m  _ sorry.” _

Her expression is one of confusion. He slides his hand through the hair on her temple, brushing it behind her ear. He shakes his head at himself slightly and looks at the ground, clenching his teeth. “I want to be… more. I  _ need  _ to be more.”

“More what?”

He looks at the bland, sun-bleached sky. The one that never hurts his eyes, no matter how deeply he stares into it. “Compassionate? Understanding...? Selfless, maybe? I just… I don’t know how.”

She goes to say something, but he stops her with a small kiss to her forehead, folding her into his arms.

“I’m going to make mistakes, Rey. I’m going to not see your side – I’m going to be selfish sometimes. And, when I am, I need you to call me out on it. I need you to help me  _ see  _ it. Because I need to change.

“I  _ want  _ to change.”

She nods against his chest, her body a warm comfort. “Then, I’ll help you.”

And he tells her about what he’d seen.

About his long-awaited connection with his Grandfather.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rà is holding his hand. He knows he is. Ben opens his fuzzy eyes, time and time again, just for moments before his body drags him down again. Even so – each time he captures sight, his friends are with him. They come and go. Different pairings at different times.

But Rà stays.

Sometimes he’s eating. Sometimes drawing. Sometimes he’s talking one-sidedly to Rey. 

Sometimes he’s at the edge of Ben’s bed, tucking him in over and over again – because the boy sees it as a sign of affection.

Ben wants to tussle his hair. He wants to tell him to count the flowers whenever he wakes up to that brain-numbing static. 

Ben wants to tuck  _ him _ in, too.

But for now – for now he can’t stay awake.

Yet, they hurtle through hyperspace, so he can pick up a small part of the mess his First Order left behind.

There’s no time for this… weakness…

Yet down and  _ down  _ he goes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn eyes Ben nervously. He’s been in and out, but’s been forcing himself to eat. To stand. To speak.

Rà gave him pen and paper, and he’s been writing down ideas. Phrases. Anything that might help smooth this all out.

It’s too much to hope – but, if the FFO worlds can get to some kind of agreement, the troopers should be welcomed back onto those planets with open arms. They were a part of the community there for  _ years.  _ He’s sure that a great many of them think of those planets as home.

Finn wants to let them come out of hiding. Let them go  _ back home. _

Poe will never go for it, though. Not unless the planets are unified together…  _ and  _ close-knit with the New Alliance. Otherwise, there’s no way the council will ever grant these planets back their soldiers…

Though Finn wonders if the Alliance should have any control over where the troopers decide to migrate to. But – does Finn have a say in that?

Does he even have a say in  _ any of it, _ really?

At least the ex-First Order planets are relying on the Alliance for aid. Ground troops for protection and violence determent. Mediation, when possible. Anti-war tactics and methodology. Bomb diffusion training. Shelters. Hospitals. Riot gear. Gas masks…

Betcha they could use some of Ren’s money.

Finn sighs. He hates every minute of this.

Ren stands in a wavering way before firming up his balance. He eyes Finn and sighs back with sympathy. Neither of them is looking forward to this. 

The ‘Jedi’ is dressed in his finest and hooks his lightsaber into his belt. They’d polished a silver metallic material over the original black casing, and it almost looks like a completely new weapon.

“You’re going to be there – right? Let them know about the reintegration program?”

Finn nods, pleased that he’s being looped into the conversation by at least  _ one  _ of his colleagues. Even though it’s just Ren – at least it’s  _ somebody. _

“And Jannah confirmed that she’s coming. She’s onboard with the whole initiative – and she’s already almost as devoted to this as I am. We want to help these troopers live their lives again. Between her, CL and me – we should sound very invested.”

Ren continues, “That will be  _ key  _ for these sentients. It will indebt them to the Alliance, for helping to bring a piece of their community back home.”

CL steps in, hiking up his pants and straightening up as Chewie works to dock the ship on the more neutral of the planets. “If the troops go home – what’s to stop the planets from going against each other for real? This time, they’ll actually have the armies they need to pull it off.”

Finn frowns.

“Then I just have to do my job  _ very well.” _ Ren glowers, fiddling with his collar and the dampness of sweat he finds there. No matter how strong he’s acting – the man must still be in pain. You can’t tell by looking at him, though.

They go towards the gangway hall, and CL turns his head over his shoulder, quick. “Kid – you’re with Miss Rey, you got me? Stay here. No leaving.”

The boy nods, wide eyed. “I’ve got toast.”

CL grins with a newfound affection. “Yeah, yeah – you’ve got toast,” and they all continue to the lowering ramp.

Poe is waiting for them and Finn can’t help it, he brushes by Ren and CL, fairly rudely, and  _ throws  _ himself into Poe’s arms.

“HEY!!” Poe catches him cleanly, wrapping his arms around  _ tight _ and patting Finn vigorously. “You made it! Man, I haven’t seen you in so long!”

Finn pulls back to look at his friend, laughter and joy on his face… only to have the pilot put his fingers deep into the floof of his hair. “Need a trim, though.”

CL scoffs. “I kinda like it. Makes me think of tumbleweeds.”

Ren pulls a sour face on Finn’s behalf.

Poe grins again, scritch-scratching his fingers over Finn’s scalp. “I like it, too. But – if you hate it – I’ve got a guy…” and winks. “Either way – drinks are on  _ me  _ tonight. To our reunion!”

He claps his arm around Finn’s back, leading him forwards and out of the remote docking station. They grin and laugh at each other like idiots, blathering on a mile a minute about nothing. 

Oh, man – how Finn  _ missed _ his friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben is leaning himself over the table, irked at being unable to stand. Damned etiquette and power plays.

For the first time in a long time, he misses his mask. Honestly, it was  _ so much easier _ to pay attention when he was able to stare out, blankly, and just focus on the words and _ feelings _ floating off of the creatures speaking them.

Instead, he sits there having to ensure he makes deliberate eye contact with every race that thought it appropriate to do so. While simultaneously  _ avoiding  _ the eyes of those who would be offended.

It’s exhausting. 

His current condition aside; it would  _ still  _ be exhausting.

“Good, then; we’re agreed. The additional concerns you’ve raised seem valid and long-standing, though. This merits further discussion.” The three planets involved in the topic nod, happy at the acknowledgement that this is _not_ _a new issue._

Ben looks around the table at the others. “And I also believe that the input and insights of your sister planets would be valuable, so – please, everyone, I’d appreciate it if you stay engaged in this conversation.

“Right now, the last thing we need is civil war, like the _ ex- _ First Order worlds. We need to hold together in  _ strength _ and  _ unity.” _

Creatures are nodding, and he flicks his mind out over theirs to see if there is any underlying deception.

If he could only read the damned Toydarian.

“After this last topic, we’ll adjourn.”

The sentients across the table signal their agreement, all in different moods based on the previous discussions... and how well each of them fared.

Because not everyone can get what they want.

Unfortunately.

The Pilot chimes in, interrupting slightly. At least Ben had convinced him to  _ sit _ this time.

“As the New Alliance is hosting tonight, we’d like to provide an opportunity to informally spend time together. We have secured a fine dining hall and some local liquors from your home worlds. Nothing helps bring us closer than sharing our cultures with one another.”

Ben holds his expression in, knowing that at least two races here are offended by everything Dameron’s just suggested, so he cuts in. “Knowing that not every culture here partakes in such gatherings, we’re also prepared to send items to your individual quarters, as you like. If you prefer that your planetary selection be removed from the menu, please let us know.”

Gods, he feels like his  _ mother. _ Sounds like her. Someone he said he’d  _ never become. _ It sours his mood considerably.

His add-on pleases those at the table that he knew would be affected, and he refuses to look at Dameron and his  _ idiocy.  _

After a fair amount of back and forth, Ben is able to broker an agreement that settles the main dispute between these three planets – and all he wants to do is  _ go home. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The corridor that leads him back to the Falcon is empty, and all he can hear is his boots’ stale thud along low-grade tiling.

Cheap.

He nearly groans when he feels the Pilot nearing him in a brisk jog and holds back the urge to throw him far,  _ far  _ away with the Force. This stupid man bringing him into this stupid world when all he wanted to do was be in his stupid bed. 

He’s too exhausted for this. 

“Yo! RN!”

Ben turns with his eyebrows raised in question. Other than that, he says nothing.

Dameron’s slightly panting from the jog, but stares at him with a grin nonetheless. “You don’t even  _ know –  _ those guys were barbing and threatening each other up to the  _ minute  _ you got here. I have no idea how you did that. What the hell did you used to  _ do  _ in the Order anyway?”

The Pilot laughs, and Ben is glad he’s not really requesting an answer.

Dameron grows serious. “Really, though, you’re amazing with them - they like you. And the fact that  _ you’re  _ tied to the Alliance… well, that just makes my job a whole lot easier.” The man’s grin is charming, but Ben wants to smack the look right off of his ill-informed face.

The Pilot pauses, tapping his finger against his pursed lips with narrowed eyes. “I want you to consider something. If they get their act together –  _ and  _ they still want anything to do with the Alliance – I want to see if they’ll let you stay on and… advise them. Like you did today. Help keep them  _ unified _ – keep them  _ in check  _ or something.”

“No.” Ben cuts him off with severe distaste, turning on his heel to stride away.

Dameron follows. “No? Look – I don’t think you’re following me, here. This is an amazing opportunity. We could get you in a position to contr-“

“Believe me, you don’t want me in this position. _I_ don’t want me in this position.”

The Pilot flings his hand out to grab Ben’s shoulder, but he ducks it immediately and Dameron nearly loses his balance. 

Ben doesn’t want to be  _ touched.  _ He doesn’t want to be  _ here.  _ He’s so tired. His head is on fire with pain. Can’t anyone just let him rest? For one minute? 

The curly haired man spins, so now they’re face to face. Dameron frowns in confusion but opens his mouth to Somehow. Keep. Speaking.

_ Stubborn bastard.  _

“Look, I have no idea why-“

The last thread of his patience breaks. 

Cutting the man off once more, Ben brings himself up to his full height, smoothing his voice into dark silk. Lowering his tone, he mimics his modulator, cooing, “I had no idea we had the Best. Pilot. in the Resistance.”

There.  _ That  _ wiped all expression off of Dameron’s face – replacing with a sort of shock and sudden  _ understanding. _

But Ben doesn’t feel like stopping.

He quirks an eyebrow and tips his head slightly to the side. “And then I believe I asked you if you were… ‘comfortable.’”

Dameron backs up, stumbling over his feet and hitting the ground hard. His eyes are wide in horror – his interrogation, no doubt, echoing through his mind. “You? How are you even  _ alive?!” _

Ben nods, abruptly. “And now you know why I don’t want this. Why  _ you  _ don’t want this.”

Finn steps into the hallway and Ben’s heart sinks.

“What’s going on?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Poe flings Finn back against the wall, thwacking his head slightly, as his friend presses his arm over his collarbone to hold him firmly in place.

“YOU KNEW! You had to have known! How could you have let him anywhere NEAR us? You know how many people he’s killed? What a MONSTER he is? He should be tried and  _ executed! _ Not going around the Galaxy doing… whatever  _ with you!” _

Ren takes a menacing step forward. “This is not  _ his fault.  _ This is because the Galaxy needs back it’s  _ real  _ Last Jedi – and I’m the only one powerful enough to  _ save her.” _

Poe, still pinning Finn to the wall, turns back towards Ren and  _ hisses, _ “Well, maybe the ‘Last Jedi’ isn’t worth that much of a  _ moral compromise.” _

And Finn cannot let that comment stand. He throws his friend off him, though he makes no other moves. He stares Poe down, pushing his thoughts firmly at Ren.

_ Don’t. I’ve got this. Just don’t. _

He sees Ren nod slightly over Poe’s shoulder, as his friend eyes him warily. Finn looks at him, not unkindly, saying softly, “How many people have you killed, Poe?”

Poe looks from one of Finn’s eyes to the other, hurt sinking in for two reasons – and one of them is that he hadn’t even bothered to count. “It was war!”

Finn nods, “Exactly. It was war. We followed orders – and so did he.”

Poe flails, “It’s not the same! IT’S NOT THE SAME! I didn’t commit GENOCIDE!”

Finn shakes his head, gently and with compassion in his eyes. “That was Snoke, who was then killed in short order by  _ Kylo Ren _ – not Rey.”

Poe scoffs meanly, “Did  _ he  _ tell you that?”

Finn just continues, “Ren had no control over what happened to Hosnia. To Kajimi, either. But – you know what  _ you  _ had control over?”

And it hurts Finn to say this – it  _ hurts _ him to hurt his friend.

“I heard all about it. Before Crait. When Leia told you to pull back – and you  _ didn’t.  _ How many people did you kill on  _ our  _ side, huh? More than just Rose’s sister, I’m sure…

“And – on Exegol – we were supposed to wait for Lando’s back up… but you didn’t. You were too hot-headed, and you went in too early. How many of us died then, Poe?”

Finn’s not angry. He’s not even matter of fact. He’s sad. Sad for the history, and sad to be lifting the wool from his friend’s eyes.

The Pilot shoves Finn backwards,  _ hard.  _ His voice is choked with emotion. “Whose side are you on?”

Glaring over his shoulder at Ren, at a loss of what to say or do, Poe Dameron backs down the corridor – staring at them both with deep betrayal in his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ FUCK! _

Poe is  _ screaming  _ inside his own mind, fingers pulling through his hair as he paces in a wooded area just outside of the negotiation camp.

In his fury, he lashes out at anything he can find. Hurling rocks. Flinging sticks, Slamming his feet against the trunks of the gray and autumn-dying trees; his rage seeping out through his mouth in mournful howls.

_ What the fuck am I’m gonna do now? WHAT THE FUCK AM I GONNA DO!?! _

He hunkers down to his haunches, pressing his closed fists hard into his forehead, eyes squeezed so tightly closed that it holds in the trickle of tears. 

It’s all falling apart. The war is won, but it’s still  _ all falling apart. He doesn’t know what to do. How to pick up the pieces. But picking up the pieces is now his  _ job  _ all of a sudden. How did this become his  _ job? _ _

__

“Well, what a lovely forest to have a tantrum in…”

__

Poe doesn’t have the energy to lash out anymore, he simply lifts his miserable face up to the familiar voice.

__

“Maz?”

__

The small orange woman looks at him through her squinty eyes, goggles sitting firmly on her wrinkled forehead. “I came to find Jedi Master Ren – the man owes me a debt. I heard from Lando Calrissian that he was coming here. Do  _ you  _ know where he is?” Her smile is mischievous, and Poe grits his teeth. He’s spent many days, weeks even, with Maz Kanata when she’d decided to stay with the Resistance on-base.

__

“I know where he  _ isn’t.  _ He’s most certainly not  _ ashes floating in space  _ like he SHOULD BE!”

__

Maz’s voice holds a knowing smile. “Because he’s Kylo Ren?”

__

Now Poe turns his body to her in earnest.

__

His voice is coated in the pain of others’ deception. _“You_ _knew, too?”_

__

Maz’s small smile doesn’t fade as she nods.

__

Poe has no words. He falls flat onto his rear and just stares at her. Hurt. Aghast. Horrified. Confused.

__

Maz edges closer to him, pulling her goggles down over her eyes, blooming them into overlarge black orbs. “There are bigger things at work here than just your vengeance.”

__

Poe’s teeth show as he jabs his finger viciously in the direction of the camp. “How can you say that  _ THAT  _ is  _ MY  _ vengeance? That is the GALAXY’S vengeance!”

__

“Is it?” Maz sits beside him, infuriating smile never leaving her. 

__

Poe drags his fingers through his hair once more, scratching the wisps that make up the soft down on the nape of his neck. He laughs – a near lunatic sound. “If Leia only knew – she’d be rolling in her grave. Or – in the Force…”

__

It was Maz’s turn to laugh, slapping him on the shoulder. “Oh! It’s funny when people assume they know all the details.” Her laughter has her shaking her head back and forth slightly, her eyes looking at Poe as if he was a child.

__

And, honestly, it’s making him feel like one.

__

“No, no. Ben Solo was always a good boy. A troubled boy… and one that was easy for evil to get its roots into… but you need to understand something-”

__

The pilot turns his bleary eyes to hers. “What is there to  _ possibly  _ understand, here? He killed his father. Betrayed his mother.”

__

“You loved Leia. Trusted her.” Not a question.

__

Poe huffs out a nod, eyes watering in earnest.

__

“Then you need to trust her  _ now,  _ Poe Dameron.

__

“Han gave his life to break the heavy chain of obedience that Snoke had latched around poor Ben Solo’s neck. Then, Leia gave _her_ life to save him from committing the one act of darkness he could never come back from. They both gave everything they had to _save their son._ And it seems to me that they did it.

__

“If you ignore that… if you refuse to  _ look  _ at that... then you are the one that would be betraying her now. Turning their sacrifices into  _ nothing. _ ”

__

Poe scoffs, incredulous and unbelieving. Offended. Anger ramping up again.

__

Maz cuts in, “You liked him when you didn’t know who he was.”

__

“I never liked him. Ren’s an aloof ass.”

__

The slight orange woman laughs again in agreement. “Well, he  _ is  _ that. But still – you  _ trusted  _ him. Enough to give him such an important role here.”

__

Poe wants to vomit. “Seems I don’t make good judgement calls.”

__

Maz rubs his arm before moving herself into a stand. “Well – everyone can grow, Poe Dameron. Everyone one can grow.”

__

She nods her head and gestures to the encampment. When Poe just nods that she’s got the right direction, she moves off wordlessly – leaving him all alone.

__

At least – he  _ thought  _ he was alone.

__

“Azaleas, purple, white with light blue…” a bony kid crouches behind one of the fading trees.

__

“Hey,” Poe calls out.

__

The boy  _ ducks  _ deeper behind the trunk and his voice picks up a sort of a chanting sound that Poe can’t make out.

__

He sniffs back wetness, scrubbing his sleeve against the underside of his nose and moves into a stand. As he edges closer to where the boy hides, something seems…  _ weird.  _ Like the shimmer of a heat wave – but there’s nothing to cause it.

__

But – just as soon as Poe thinks he sees it – it’s gone again.

__

The boy leans back and peers at him with round eyes. “Don’t tell. I’m not supposed to be off the ship.”

__

Poe shakes his head. “I won’t tell.”

__

The boy visibly calms.

__

“Why aren’t you on the ship?”

__

The boy's face goes warm with a shy smile, and he looks away. “I was showing Rey how to grow the flowers.”

__

The pilot’s eyebrows knit together, and his mouth draws into a line. “Who’s  _ Rey?” _

__

The boy  _ beams  _ at him this time, looking at him fully. He looks… excited. Happy.

__

“You’re the pilot!?”

__

Poe can’t help but be slightly charmed out of his foul mood and he smiles softly. “Who told you I’m a pilot?”

__

The boy’s grin is unbeatable. “Rey! She says…” the boy looks left and his smile falters slightly… like he’s listening to something.

__

Poe leans in, perking his ears as well, but hears nothing.

__

The boy’s smile returns, “She says it’s good to see you. She says…” he seems to listen again, “she’s glad they got the Falcon out of your clumsy clutches.” The boy slaps his hand over his mouth in embarrassment at what he’d just said. He  _ says,  _ “I’m sorry,” but a small grin still hides itself behind his fingers.

__

Poe’s blood is hot in his veins. “Who. Is. Rey?”

__

The smile falls off the boy’s face fast and a sort of uncertainty returns. “She’s my friend.” After a pause, “She says she’s your friend, too.”

__

Poe just stares at the boy for a moment – wondering if he’s crazy and, if so, who to get him to... but the boy just smiles once more. “Do you want to see her?”

__

“See Rey?”

__

The boy nods.

__

Poe grits his teeth. “Absolutely.”

__

__

__

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__

__

__

“You need to politically distance yourself from me  _ right now,  _ Finn.”

__

“Look – maybe if he just cools down…”

__

“Poe Dameron does not  _ ‘cool down’.  _ Poe Dameron blows things up. Which he will do to you and the Stormtrooper program, if you don’t get in lock-step with him  _ right now.” _

__

“Just – take his memory.”

__

Ren scoffs, shaking his head and gritting his teeth, suddenly unwilling. 

__

Finn paces back and forth but doesn’t miss the way Ren wobbles on his feet. He wasn’t physically prepared for all this and the pain and exhaustion made him  _ sloppy.  _

__

“Fine, then. So I go to Poe and do  _ what  _ exactly? What does ‘lock-step’ even mean? What is it you actually want me  _ to do?” _

__

The man leans in and grasps Finn’s wrist, holding him steady. _ "Attack _ me. Wait until we’re close enough to Dameron, but no one else is around – that way, we can make it seem like he just found us in the middle of a battle. You’ll feel him now – I  _ know. _ If you try, you’ll feel him – and we can start as soon as he’s within range.

__

“Come at me – use your blaster; go  _ hard. _ I’ll make it look good, but I’ll escape. Trick my way onto transport, somewhere.”

__

Finn snorts, “Not like there’s any way that Poe would believe _ I _ scared  _ you _ off – but this would benefit me how?”

__

Ren lets go of his wrist gently, but quickly. “It will let you save your program. And your friendship with the Pilot.”

__

Finn pauses. He bites the inside of his cheek as Ren starts to turn away.

__

This can’t be the way this goes. Not after everything.

__

It just  _ can’t go like this. _

__

“What about-“

__

“Rà? Rey? I’ll take them with me. I’ll  _ take care _ of them this time, Finn. We can comm Chewie right now – he’ll help get them to wherever I end up. Dameron doesn’t even know they’re here, so-“

__

“No!” Finn shouts.

__

“The Fallen First Order? I got a good start on them today – if we go fast, I can prep you on the major issues and-“

__

“NO!” His voice is up to a bellow now, shutting up the ‘Jedi’ and getting his full attention. “What about  _ me? _ What about Chewie? CL? What about  _ our  _ friendship? Doesn’t  _ our  _ friendship matter?”

__

And Ren freezes, eyes wide. His mouth drops open but nothing comes out.

__

Finn’s eyes are watering, and he’s not alone. Ren’s lips purse slightly and tremble as he stares into Finn, working his jaw. 

__

After a moment, he finally finds his words.

__

“It’s  _ because  _ you’re my friends. It’s because I  _ know  _ how important this is to you. To  _ them.  _ It’s because  _ I don’t know what happens next.” _

__

Ren looks away, blinking back the tears in his eyes. Finn puts his hand on the man’s shoulders and Ren’s eyes close in pain – but Finn holds his ground until the man looks at him again.

__

When he does, Finn smiles in a cocky sort of way. “Since when have we known ‘what happens next’? We just – move… and then we find something along the way.”

__

He notices that Ren’s letting him grip him without complaining about it, and he feels a swell of affection in his heart.

__

And it’s his. Not Rey’s.

__

“We’ll find something, Ren. Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s a  _ good thing.  _ And, if Poe is smart – he’ll let you finish your job. We have until then to figure it out.  _ We’ll figure this out.” _

__

Ren snorts. “Family meeting?”

__

Finn smirks. “And I’ll get out the cups.”

__

Ren closes his eyes and sighs. “Tonight, then. Together. I just… I need some time.”

__

Finn nods and lets him go, one thought pounding in his mind.

__

_ Figure this out. _

__

__

__

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__

__

__

“Ben.” A familiar voice plainly states behind him as he sits in the wilted leaves a bit off campus. So much for his private moping…

__

“Uncle Lando,” Ben returns.

__

Lando Calrissian hikes up his silken cape and groans slightly as he eases himself to the ground. A short purring growl follows as Chewie joins,  _ thumping  _ directly across from them, forming a triad of sorts.

__

Ben doesn’t look at them, he just throws more twigs and sticks into the pile he’d been making for no particular reason.

__

“How’s Rà?” He looks at Chewie and the Wookie waves him off with a gesture that says, ‘He’s fine,” which makes Ben nod and go back to his pile again – until he notices what’s in his uncle’s hands.

__

Leather and dirty-white linen. Worn, stained, threadbare… and poorly sewn. It’s the clothes Finn had made him… out of his father’s old stuff.

__

“What are we doing?”

__

Lando reaches behind him and scrounges up more sticks. “We’re holding a funeral,  _ that’s  _ what we’re doing.”

__

Ben’s heart squeezes and his eyes water again.

__

Silently, all three of them gather up whatever is around. Dried leaves, twigs, bits of paper from some litter blown astray, and once their pile is large enough, the Wookie whips out his blaster.

__

“WHOA!” Lando cries, backing up in a jolt, digging his heels in, Ben doing something similar.

__

Chewie pays them no mind and  _ pew pews  _ laser shots right into the mound of debris.

__

A fire bursts to life, but Chewbacca’s companions are eyeing him with horror and incredulity. Unfazed, he just shrugs.

__

Lando fluffs his cape once more and grumbles an annoyed sound, looking directly into the hairy face in front of him, before taking out a small flask and uncorking it with a special sort of squeak sound.

__

Ben snorts, “Is that…?”

__

Lando nods, tipping his head back. “Of course it is.” He takes a good gulp and hands the Corellian whiskey to Ben. 

__

He’s never liked the stuff, but he takes a good swig of it anyway. And another for good measure. It burns all that way down and he coughs slightly, getting him an amused sidelong glance from his less-omnipresent uncle.

__

If CL were here, he’d  _ definitely  _ remind him about his blood alcohol ratio right about now.

__

Ben hands the bottle to Chewie, and he follows suit – though he always winds up spilling it on himself, since puckering has never really worked for Wookies.

__

The fire crackles around them and they sit in silence for a minute before they begin.

__

Chewie grumbles, “Friend was always… Friend. I almost don’t remember a time before I knew Friend.” Chewie shakes his head and moans a sound that means nothing, before continuing.

__

“Friend took risks. So many times, I thought we’d die. Wookies live long – so I always knew I’d be sitting here, one day. Still, I  _ miss _ Friend.”

__

He pours a little liquor on the fire, making it spit up a crackle of flames, and passes the bottle back to Lando.

__

Lando takes back another deep tug and shakes his head a bit before speaking. “I’ve done you wrong. On more that one occasion… though some of them are my favorite memories.” He smiles a wistful sort of smile. “You were a scoundrel and a rascal and, likely, a horrible husband.”

__

They all chuckle a bit, at that.

__

“Still, out of all the people that have passed in and out of my life… you were one of my favorites.”

__

He drinks again, then spills more on the pyre.

__

The bottle goes to Ben. He bites the inside of his cheek and stays silent. For a good, long while he stays silent. His uncles don’t look at him – don’t push him. They look at the sunset giving way to the stars or focus on poking at the fire.

__

“I…” he starts. Mournful eyes turn to him then, but he can’t meet them. “I thought I understood you. I thought I knew  _ everything _ about you. What you wanted, what you loved, what you needed…

__

“What you hated. What you…  _ didn’t  _ love… or  _ didn’t  _ need…”

__

A tear slips down Ben’s cheek, followed quickly by another.

__

“But I didn’t really know you the way I thought I did – and…” he sniffs, “I wish I had the chance to change that.”

__

He pulls back two large swallows and, without looking around, empties the bottle out on the flames. The alcohol content only fuels the fire and reminds Ben why this stuff  _ hurts  _ so bad in the morning.

__

Wordlessly, Chewie passes out the clothing. Lando gets the vest, Chewie keeps the slacks, and Ben digs his fingers into what’s left of his father’s shirt.

__

Nodding at each other in silence, they toss the clothes in and bask in the warmth as the fire roars. Little embers lick up into the darkening evening sky, all purples and flushing pinks.

__

Lando stands, not intending to stay, and reaches out a hand to Ben. Ben returns the gesture, and they clasp together in a meaningful handshake. Lando’s other hand wraps around as well, finishing the gesture with kindness.

__

“Night, Chewie.” And Lando is gone.

__

They sit in silence for a bit more, but the ache in his body is a steady burn, so Ben moves to leave… until Chewbacca speaks.

__

“I… I also left family. Wife. Son. I was always going. Doing. Helping. Fighting. Almost never home. I had a life-debt to Friend… but Son and so many Wookies were made  _ slaves _ while I was gone. Friend and I saved them – but not soon enough.” His growls turn even more mournful.

__

“Son could have become like Sweet Boy. He could have turned against me. Told himself he  _ hated  _ me. He still could, even now. And then, you would get to pour things on  _ my  _ fire.”

__

Ben scoots closer and lays a hand on Chewie’s arm. Unsure of what else to do.

__

“When this is over – when Strong Girl is  _ safe  _ – I will go home. Maybe it’s not too late for Wife and I to have great love. For Son and I to have great joy.

__

“But not yet. Strong Girl needs to come back first… so Stupid Friend needs to hurry.”

__

Ben shakes his head and says, “I…” before truly hearing what had just been said. 

__

He gestures at himself. “...Friend?  _ Friend…? _ Me?”

__

_ “Stupid _ Friend.” Chewie corrects, pulling him into a firm embrace.  _ “Always _ Stupid.”

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our marvelous beta has written a beautiful little one-shot. 
> 
> Give it a read, if you have a moment: archiveofourown.org/works/25819162


	30. Maz’s Favor

  
  


  
  


Art by [ Nixcomix (me)](https://www.facebook.com/NixComix-291714942383)

Also can follow @nixcomix or for older work, visit nixcomix.com

_________________

The look on CL’s face when the Wookie helps him into the common room is priceless. It’s worrisome, scolding, affectionate and amused all at the same time. It’s an image that Ben will tuck into his heart and keep for a while.

“Who told you it was a good idea to drink?”

Ben lifts his eyebrows as if he has no idea what the man it is talking about.

“Seriously, RN – I can smell it on you. Both of you. What the hell were you drinking? Battery acid?”

Chewie and Ben share a simultaneous snicker as the Wookie helps him flop onto the couch. Finn presses water into his hands, narrowing his eyes slightly. Ben is almost sure he hears the word ‘Moron’ press faintly into his mind and grins at Finn’s attitude.

CL wastes no time in setting up. “You guys can’t see the forest through the trees – so I’m deciding what each cup is, tonight.”

“Gods help us all.” Chewie grumbles out, but CL is  _ learning  _ now and gives him a side-eyed glance.

He tosses a set of chips to the Wookie, to Finn, and to Ben – but Ben drops a good number of them. 

All eyes are on him, and his cheeks flare.

CL’s eyebrows are in his hairline. “We screwed you up pretty bad, huh?”

Irritated, Ben flicks his hair out of his eyes and opens his hand, chips snapping into them in short order.

_ “There _ you go,” CL intones before finishing the last bits of the set-up.

Pointing at each cup, “The King, the Queen, the Joker. Wookie goes first, then clockwise.”

Ben concentrates and has a better showing than most of them, hitting all but one chip in ‘Queen’. The others’ are smattered around, but he knows that ‘Queen’ will take it. What that option means, though? Well – that was anyone’s guess.

After the chip count proves Ben right, CL bounces a couple in his hand. “So – Ren needs to gain power and position himself in a way that will make the FFOs want to protect him.”

Hands slapping to his forehead, Ben nearly growls out,  _ “No.” _

Finn throws his hands up in the air. “Saying ‘no’ is an option? Why the hell didn’t I know ‘NO’ was an option?!?”

Chewie grunts his amusement.

CL continues, “Think about it. If we can get you nice and cuddly with them – it’s Poe’s word against yours. And they like you better.”

“No. Never. Don’t you realize the risk in that?”

“We’ll protect you, RN, one way or anoth-“

Ben sits up and thrusts his hand at the gangway ramp. “Not  _ me – THEM!”  _ His head swims; he wavers a bit but grits his teeth and moves on. “Do you realize the danger we’d be putting them in for  _ no reason?  _ When the truth is corroborated, somehow _ –  _ then they’ll feel like they’d been taken over by the First Order  _ twice.” _

CL smirks, “Who said they were taken over? They came in willingly, didn’t they? That’s what they wanted  _ then. _ Maybe that’s what they need  _ now. _ And you? You know their infrastructure. Political set-ups. Motivational levers, leadership chains, regulations… you know this better than  _ anyone in the Galaxy. _ You have first-hand experience in leading these planets-”

_ “HOLDING  _ these planets while my attention was  _ elsewhere.” _

“But not when you were with Snoke. I’ve been with you on some of these planets. I’ve seen these people thrive. You  _ know  _ they’ll do better under one rule.”

“No.” With a harsh grunt, Ben leans over and starts tugging at his hair. “The answer is  _ no.  _ Absolutely – unequivocally  _ NO!” _

“Do it.”

Everyone’s blood fills with ice at the sound of Poe Dameron’s voice.

The Pilot stands in the corridor that leads to the med-bay… to  _ Rey… _

His arms are crossed, stance wide, eyes filled with hate and a firm determination. Rà stands behind the man and Ben hears CL call out, keeping his voice calm in the face of danger, almost light… and definitely more parental than he realizes.

“What are you doing up, kiddo? It’s past your bedtime. Hop on over and RN will tuck you in, later.”

When Rà hesitates, looking up at Poe, CL simply cocks an eyebrow and gestures his head towards where the bunks are. “Let’s  _ go, _ kid.”

With an, “Eep!” the boy scoots out of the room and Ben smiles in spite of himself. CL is in ‘dad’ mode. Who knew he had a ‘dad’ mode?

Once out of the way, CL unhooks his blaster from its holster and keeps his finger slyly on the trigger. Ben seems to be the only one that sees it.

Trying to keep things from escalating, he simply says, “I’ve already made myself clear. I don’t want this. The  _ Alliance  _ won’t want this – not if they knew the truth.”

Dameron leans against the wall, crossing one boot over the other. “Who said they had to know?”

Everyone in the room just stares at him, so the man continues. “Seems to me,  _ Ben Solo,  _ that a good number of Heroes have been protecting your spacer-ass for quite some time now. That they ‘believe in you’. That you’re becoming a ‘better person’.”

His eyes turn cold and lock on Ben’s. “But I’ll believe it when I see it. If you’re with the FFO, I’ll have you on a  _ leash.  _ You’ll be right in my sights – and if you get out of line, I can blow up your game like  _ that.”  _ He snaps his fingers.

Ben can’t help but want to kill him. If he has the FFO, he’ll have the means to protect himself. Especially if they get the troopers back. Self preservation keeps him from flaunting this detail in Dameron’s stupid face.

The Pilot continues. “Since _Hux’s_ defection helped the Resistance, I can at least try to let _your_ defection help the Alliance.”

CL and Ben sit up, ramrod straight. Ben’s not even sure which one of them says, _“Hux did_ _-what-?”_

Finn grins, abashedly. “Oh, yeah – I forgot to tell you about that. He was feeding the Resistance insider intel. He actually helped us escape once, too. Let me shoot him to make it look good.”

Ben blinks at him, mind set on  _ pause. _

A cruel smirk falls on the Pilot’s face. “What was it that he said? That he didn’t care if the Resistance would win – only that _Ren would_ _lose.”_

And – he can’t help it. He just… he just can’t help it.

It takes a moment for the wheels in his head to turn again – but, when they do, Ben  _ laughs.  _ He laughs and laughs and  _ laughs. _ It’s another one of his knee-slapping bouts of uncontrollable mirth, eyes squeezed closed and arms firmly wrapped around his fluttering stomach.

He quiets slightly, head pounding – but as soon as he opens his eyes on a slightly confused and horrified Dameron, he SNORTS and goes off again.

CL grins and apologizes on his behalf. “Yeah, he does this sometimes, now.”

Dameron uncrosses his arms, knitting his brow in discomfort. Ben can’t help but feel a ‘mixed feeling’ flow through the Pilot – especially because Finn is holding in a snicker too.

Soon, the trio of them are chortling and huffing and shaking as they try their hardest to get themselves under control.

Chewie shrugs. “This is what I live with.”

Ben hears stomps quickly approach him and he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, grin still dimpling his face. Dameron’s expression should sober him, but it doesn’t. His words, however, do.

Pointing at him, “You will be at those negotiations tomorrow. And you will figure out a way to get them together. If you lead them – you lead them. If you get them to elect one of them over them all – _fine._ Get them to sing some sort of Galactic ‘Kumbaya’, for all I care. Just don’t walk away from this until it’s _fixed._ Clean up your own goddamned mess here. I’m too busy picking up your _other_ messes _elsewhere_.”

His footfalls are heavy again as Ben watches him go – but before he’s out of sight, Dameron stops. His shoulders hike up and he clenches his fists. Without turning around, he intones, “Rey told me.”

The statement hangs heavy and Ben just watches the man’s back expand and contract as he breathes. 

“If it hadn’t been for what your parents did… or Skywalker… or Snoke _…_ _Palpatine…_ then maybe something like _this_ would have been your destiny, instead.” He turns over his shoulder then, expression still hard. “Maybe that’s why you’re so good at it.”

And those boots echo once more as the Pilot stomps away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Dream.

Disorientation runs through Ben as he lays on his back, peering around and wondering where he is. Fragments surround him, but they’re – disjointed. They don’t go together, somehow. It’s like the world around him cracked into shattered shards that were pieced back together by an untrained hand.

As he clenches his stomach muscles to sit up, he hears her self-conscious sigh.

“Sorry – I don’t do it as well as you do…”

Rey sits next to him, but he’s not looking at her – his eyes are fixed around them, instead.

Still, with the tone of her voice, he knows it’s likely that she’s squinting her eyes and curling her nose up as she surveys her handiwork. He’s seen that expression on her many times before, and always finds it adorable – even when it’s clear she’s entirely displeased.

Staring at the scenery around them, realization dawns.

In the sky floats a fractured rainbow alongside the rolling sound of far-off thunder. There is a dock to one side of them, cracked with broken slats. Two fishing poles sit there, leaning against each other like lovers. Beneath, green phosphorescence shimmers over the water in a pixelated fashion, stuttering in and out of existence. A waterfall pummels its way down into the flickering lakeside – but just enough steam rises up that Ben knows the water would be hot to the touch.

Below them, velvet cushions are laid out in deep and rich tones of blue and he caresses his fingertips over the illusion, moving from the pillows to billowing swaths of white satin that sit beneath the softness; adding another tactile layer for him to graze over.

The Jakku sands still close in around the edges – threatening to spill over into this piecemeal fantasy. A vision that houses the holy remnants of their most lovely dreams.

His heart floods with devotion.

“You remembered  _ all  _ this?”

Her voice tells him that she must be wearing her self-deprecating smile. “I wish I could have done it better.”

Not taking his eyes off the scenery, he waves his hand out blindly until his skin touches hers – and he nearly yanks her into his arms, folding himself around her, breathing in her hair. She looks up at him, still disappointed with herself and unsure.

“You like it? I tried my best to-”

And he cuts her off with a sweet kiss, all smiles at the edges as he hums amusement into her. Soon, she’s smiling back, and their kisses are like a kind of softness that meets for only a moment before blooming again.

“It’s perfect.”

She pulls back and he really looks at her for the first time. Her hair is down and she’s wrapped in the same satin that lay beneath them.

And nothing else.

His mouth opens slightly, and he gazes steadily down her body – saying the word again, “Perfect.”

She smiles shyly, clasping the fabric against herself.

He wastes no time in pulling his own clothing off. He can’t help but note that he is, somehow, in his black sweater from Exegol; from when she’d considered him her savior.

His thumb passes through the hole she had once speared into it as he drags it from his body, moving down and stripping the rest off, too. 

Every scrap of it.

Her face is turned away in a shy smile, though she bites her lips coyly and her cheeks tint with pink.

Insecurity creeps over him, and he slips himself beneath the same mile of fabric that drapes her, tucking his baser self away. Once settled, he reaches over to her and brushes his knuckles over her cheek, getting her attention.

“You’re too far away,” he pouts.

She grins, eyes twinkling in the way that they often do, and he waggles his eyebrows at her in a roguishly ‘Finn’ gesture. She shoves him a bit, laughing, “Switch off!” but pulls herself closer anyway. Closer and closer until he feels the heat of her hip’s bare skin against the jutting bone of his own.

It’s his turn to feel shy now. His ears are burning, and he runs his fingers over his facial hair in contemplation. “You know… I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

She laughs, her accent deep. “Join the club.”

He quirks his lips at her and she laces their hands together. Even though her eyes are so beautiful, he can’t take his gaze off her mouth. His eyelids slide down to half-mast as he leans in towards her slowly, and she meets him gently in the middle.

He lifts his hand up, wrapping it behind her back and moving her closer, until she’s nearly in front of him, and he can feel her grip on the fabric start to loosen.

She parts from him, looking at him with longing. “Please.”

His fingers caress her jawbone and it’s like he could fall into her. “Please, what?”

Her voice is a whisper. “Please don’t wake up.”

She releases the fabric and he feels her bare chest slide over his, softer than silk, as she claims his lips. His fingers flow over the naked skin on her back – counting each rib with slow deliberation as her tongue draws every breath from him.

Her mouth is hot and she starts to nip, riling him up and he has the sudden urge to  _ throw her down  _ and  _ take.  _ But he shakes his head, forehead against hers.

“Soft, Rey. Be soft.”

And so she is. Her hands drift up to his pulse points on either side of his throat and travel down in an achingly slow pattern. Small swirls of her nails, just grazes, as they work their way over his shoulders and down his arms. Her palms open wide, and he feels her fingers splay out over his chest, all while her plush mouth slants over his.

She scoots over further, the draping pulling and leaving her completely bare – but he’s almost afraid to look. Afraid it will be too good. Afraid he’ll lose control…

So he starts with his hands, translating her shape into images in his mind.

Her shoulder blades are sharp ridges, moving fluidly as she hoists herself onto his lap. He bites his lip and makes a small sound as she straddles over one of his legs. She sits up high, as she’s done before – but a certain part of his body is  _ straining  _ to find her.

Her fingers are in his hair, tipping his head back to look up at her. The green and brown and yellow flecks in her eyes captivate him. She shutters them softly, though, as she feels his palm drift around her ribcage to cup a single breast in his hand.

She breathes out a sigh. Her kiss-stained lip pulls between her teeth, and he sees it drag slightly but lets his gaze continue down. Over her pulse, her gulping throat, the small crest of her collarbone, down and down – until he sees her bare chest and what lies there.

He watches his one hand move over her, the other bracing her from behind. He engulfs her and it makes a wave of protectiveness flow through him.

_ Mine.  _ He thinks – but it’s not a claim of possession… it’s a sort of awe that something so amazing… so precious… so  _ good  _ could grace him in this way.

He places soft kisses on her, remembering their time before as he decides to flick his tongue over the pink nub of her. She twitches and cries out slightly in surprise and, oh, doesn’t it just make him  _ want to do it again. _

He suckles the breast that his hand isn’t palming, dancing the edges of his fingers over her and preening as her breath quickens and her fingers dig into his shoulders. Softly scraping his teeth over her, she cries his name and slides down into a lower straddle, just ever so slightly, and their heated cores call to each other.

“I love you,” he intones, moving his mouth over her neck. Sucking spots that he doesn’t know will appear as bruises later. He’s on her ear now, hands wrapped up her back and over her shoulders. “I  _ love  _ you,” he breathes again – ragged. Then, his voice low and demanding, “I  _ want  _ you.”

He pulls her shoulders down, rolling her sex over his thigh and she cries out a moan that sounds like his name. “Yes,” he hisses, forehead resting under her chin as she leans back slightly.

He pulls her down again, eliciting that same sound – and she  _ slides  _ over him. Something wet and slick.

His length  _ hardens,  _ knowing – somehow – that it was a  _ good _ thing. That it was because of him. Because of something  _ he did.  _ Something he made her feel. 

He wants to do it again – and again and again and again.

But she takes the initiative this time, seating herself on him, gliding herself back and forth over his mid-thigh. She tips her chest to touch him, panting, and when she hits a certain angle, she squeaks and it makes him  _ ache. _

She slides up closer with every stroke and she’s moaning against him. He silently begs her to roll up close enough to brush over him – to feel her collide over what throbs in wait for her.

And when she does, he sees stars.

“Rey,” he calls out her name like a prayer and she moves her mouth over his once more. Their kisses are sloppy and wet, as both are too out of breath to hold their lips together too long.

Tentatively, she reaches down him, as she did once before, and takes hold of his length. He  _ grunts  _ and lolls his head onto her shoulder as she tugs him.

“Lay down with me, Ben – please.”

How could he refuse?

The satin runs in smooth caresses over his back as he leans down, taking her with him. She moves her leg from between his, resting it over his other hip, in a full straddle now. His hands blaze trails down her back and over her rump as he squeezes it, resulting in a surprised hum into his mouth.

Between kisses, she pants, “I don’t know what to do…”

So he flips her over, licking traces down her body, over her hips, before pulling back to see the thing he is most curious about.

He stares at her eyes while he looms over her, sliding his thick fingers down her tanned belly. Once his hands lay over her thighs, though, he moves back and spreads her legs, dipping his eyes down to her pleasure center.

For the third time in this dream, he tells her, “Perfect.”

She looks away, shyly, biting her lips once more.

“Eyes on me, Rey,” he purrs – and she returns his gaze. Voice low and pleading, “Eyes only ever on me.”

“Only you,” she agrees.  _ “Forever _ you.”

And he believes her. 

He circles his thumbs through her curly black hair – so similar to his own. But, as he takes her in, he notices there’s more hidden there, and he tips his fingers into its softness.

She cries out and her legs involuntarily try to  _ close,  _ but he is between them – pinning them open.

There is that slickness again – and something inside him  _ understands.  _ Like an animal, he can tell by her scent. She wants him. He wants her… and he knows what to do. When he thinks about it, he supposes he’s always known.

Instinct.

He watches every tensed muscle in her body as it flutters with his touches. His fingers slide over her, and her  _ whole body  _ trembles. There is such power here – she is at his complete mercy… yet all he wants to do is please her. So he keeps his moist fingers running through the treasure that he’s found until she’s covering her mouth to stifle her own cries.

His fingers find what they’ve been searching for, and he begs her, “Let me hear you, baby,” as he slips his thumb inside her.

Her cry rips through him and he grits his teeth with desire. Her eyes squeeze shut, and he’ll not demand their attention anymore. He’s got other things to look at, now.

His finger slides in and out of her, shiny with her wetness. Something primal overtakes him and he rears back, plunging his mouth onto her and tasting her crudely. She  _ grunts  _ and fists his hair, bucking against him while simultaneously pushing him down against her.

And it’s perfect.

It’s all so  _ fucking perfect. _

She tastes so special, unlike anything else – and he’s drunk on her. He hooks his arms under her thighs and hikes her up, changing his angle against her and she’s begging him in nonsense words. Every now and then, he can pick out his name as he laps at her – Ben… Kylo…  _ Baby…  _ as his tongue goes from hard, to soft, to pointed. All to see what works best, as he slides his fingers into her once more.

She groans and he seems to hit the base inside her, curling his digits in the foreignness of her heat. He wants to  _ be  _ there. He wants to be  _ in there. _

He slides his wet mouth over her body, pulling himself up to line against her. Searching for her with his body, he slides himself up and through the outside of her. Coating himself in the sensation, in her  _ sounds, _ her fingers now gripping him with a biting pressure as she loops her legs over his hips.

He flexes so that he rides back and forth against her. Up and down again. He sighs his raw _need_ into her mouth. If she minds the taste of herself, she doesn’t let it show.

Rey is  _ hungry. _

Her plea, so familiar at this point, “I ache, Ben.”

He nods against her, “Yeah – me too.” His angle changes somehow and the head of him presses partway into her entrance and his breath stutters. “Tell me you love me.”

She nods, breathless. “I love you.”

He plunges in – and it’s the best thing he’s ever felt in his entire life. He is deep in her sex and, he knows, his fist will never do the job again.

She hisses in a breath and his body locks inside her. Her face is a mix of pleasure and pain and he panics, bracing himself to pull off of her…

But she uses those gorgeous thighs to pull him in again, until he bottoms out with a cry.

“That’s it, Ben,” she prays. “Make my ache go away.”

And then he starts to move.

He wants to feel every inch of her – but, it's like he’s all nerves and numb at the same time. The most key sensation is the tight heat that pulls at his flesh as he moves into her.

He’s heading towards that precipice again, he knows. And it won’t take long – either. So he tries to go slow. Draw it out. She’s making sounds – begging sounds,  _ pleading _ sounds… but so is he.

He keeps his pubic bone  _ right  _ up against hers, and it’s flicking the same button she’d been using his leg to caress. The same one he’d found with his tongue.

His hips roll back and forth… but, suddenly… it’s not enough.

Harder.  _ Faster.  _ He starts a rough rhythm against her body; and she  _ screams  _ for him. Things like, ‘So Good’ and ‘Don’t Stop’ and ‘Love You’ and ‘Please’.  _ Over and over _ again, she says the word ‘Please’. Until it sings a seductive song in his reeling mind, which is whitening with hot lust as his thrusts become  _ pounds;  _ driving deep within her – chasing that feeling.

And when he comes, she does, too. 

He curls his head against her, bracing his hands on the satin-stained ground as he cries out her name with a final slam before shuddering inside her as she  _ pulses _ . Her body twitches and jerks beneath him, and he rocks within her. Gently. Softly. Not wanting to leave. Never ever. Always in this place. Always with her.

“I’m going to save you, Rey – and then we’re going to do this again.

“And, when we do – I want it to be with you as my wife.”

He offers her his hand. Once more. Just once more…

And she takes it.

Finally.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rà sneaks out of his bedroom because everything smells so  _ good. _

He doesn’t hear Rey, so he guesses she’s still sleeping. She never talks to him at night because she’s nice. She wants to let him sleep and always tells him to have happy dreams.

She’s just so  _ nice. _

And he loves her.

He sneaks around the corner, silent as a ghost so no one gets mad. Really, no one gets mad at him here – but it may just be a matter of time. Except Master Ren. He thinks that Master Ren will always be kind.

And he loves Master Ren, too.

When he peers out, Master Ren is humming. It’s a song he doesn’t know but it’s ‘hums’ first, then ‘whistles’, then ‘hums’ again.

He’s cooking – and it’s more than the ‘healthy’ stuff he normally makes. Rà watches the toasty circle flip into the air and he feels like drooling.

Pancakes.

“Good morning,” Master Ren says, without turning around. His voice sounds so  _ happy.  _ Master Ren is a lot of things – but happy is not one of them, normally.

“You feel all better, now?” He pads softly over to the common room table, sliding into the seat that’s too big for him and kicking his feet back and forth, toes only _ just  _ touching the floor. When he gets big enough, he won’t be able to do this anymore – but he likes it, so it’s okay to stay small for a while longer.

His Master turns around to look at him now and his smile is  _ so big  _ that Rà can’t help but smile back. “Oh, yes. All better, now.”

Rà’s head dips shyly. “Good.”

Turning back around, grin still in his voice, he asks, “How’s Rey this morning?”

Rà yawns and scrubs at his eyes a little bit, getting the crusties out. “I think she’s still sleeping.”

Master Ren giggles, setting food in front of him, tussling his hair.

And Rà likes that.

He likes that  _ a lot. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben can’t help but smile slightly at the delegation in front of them. It’s all buttoned up. Concessions, consensus, agreement, paperwork drawn up and marks of acknowledgement made.

Signatures, blood drops, fingerprints – to each his own.

“I’m glad to see that this has all concluded so well, Master Ren,” the Aquilish clatters, as its modulator calls out a droidish Basic translation over his mandibles. “Your assistance and neutrality in these matters has allowed us-“ it gestures at the conference table, “-to continue on in partnership and peace.”

The flightless Toydarian steeples its fingers, nodding. “And your influence in the Alliance is letting our Stormtrooper community return  _ home.” _

Jannah speaks up, sitting firmly next to Finn. “We prefer to no longer be referred to as Stormtroopers.”

The creature raises its expressive eyebrows. “Then what?”

Her mouth pulls into a firm line as she looks back at him. “Humans.”

The table nods in agreement, feeling settled and ready to move on from these tedious days. Still, Ben has another seed to plant – and he does so now.

“Your system is used to being united under one rule – and it has forced your cooperation. You must now continue your agreements and honor your contractual obligations on your own.

“Still – life is long, and concerns will rise. Conflicts. Issues. And I’m of the personal belief that the Alliance is a useful partner but  _ shouldn’t be _ a governing body.”

There is a risk in this statement, but it achieves chuckles of agreement.

“I recommend that you nominate another mediator – or single head of state. Another neutral party – perhaps from one of the more neutral worlds. This sentient could assist in brokering agreements and keeping the peace – like we’ve done these past few days.

“It may look too similar to the rule of the First Order to be comfortable…” which he knows doesn’t bother them in the least, as he can feel relief emanating from a good number of them, “… but the decision is, ultimately, yours to make.”

He nods and stands. And he stands  _ first.  _ If others have a problem with this, it doesn’t show, and he ensures his face remains the stoic mask he’s practiced for so many years.

Pleasantries are given, and hands and limbs and claws are shaken, pat and clasped – to each his own.

Finn and Jannah stand to his one side. CL to his other. And Dameron is, thankfully, far, far away.

If he were to choose a team for himself – this one checks all his boxes.

Even the ones he didn’t know he had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maz is waiting for him outside of campus. The fall air is crisp and pleasant. He likes it here. It’s a bonus that the sun is far enough away that his skin doesn’t burn from its rays – as it was known to do when he was on-planet. Avoiding sunburns was one of the unexpected benefits to swathing himself completely in black.

“I’ve been waiting for you since yesterday.”

Ben nods, firmly, sighing through his nose. “Come to collect? You could have comm’d.”

The small orange woman shakes her head slowly. “It couldn’t be risked. No one is supposed to know what I know.”

One eyebrow quirks and Ben can’t help but let his lips twitch upward. “Then how do you know in the first place?”

A sly understanding passes between them and he feels a rekindling of his childhood affection for this matronly character. She turns to walk, and he follows pace, which isn’t hard because her stride is so short.

“I’m sure you’re aware of Dathomir.”

He grimaces, remembering his time there. “Yes. Quite.”

“And you know what they do to Force-sensitives.”

He flares with anger and a vile taste rises in his mouth. “I remember.”

She nods, clasping her hands behind her back. “No one really saw what they were doing in the New Republic. Too secret. To…  _ dark.  _ The war slowed it down, but it never really stopped.”

The leaves crunch under his feet now, and he knows where this is going. And he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he will agree.

“They’re finding them again. Whispering that any connection to the Force can only lead to the Dark side. Those that hear the whispers, whisper back.

“So, my ask of you is two-fold. One: Keep being prominent. Be on all the holos you can – doing good. With the Force, specifically. Rey. Finn –  _ anyone  _ who has it needs to be  _ visible. _

“Two: There is a trapper with a load coming to the planet where my new Castle lives.”

“Didn’t you say it was going to be called ‘The Resurrection’?”

She waves off the reference with feigned annoyance. “Not one of my better ideas.”

They walk for a minute, leaves still crunching as Ben summarizes. “I take down the trapper – set his quarry free. What then?”

Maz pats him on the arm near his elbow – a comfortable place for her to reach, given her height. Amusement rings in her voice. “You’ll think of something.”

She stops and turns around to face him as they stand alone in a private glen in the woods.

“It’s time to repay your debt, Ben Solo.”

And he agrees.


	31. The Pull of the Darkness

  
  


Art by [ Templado](https://www.deviantart.com/templado)

_________________

He hates this. Hehatesthishehatesthishehatesthis. Not in theory… just…  _ in practice.  _ In theory, it was a grand idea. A Fantastic Idea… 

But – in  _ practice? _

Finn is staring at him with his eyebrows pulled down low. He twitches his head at the comm again, and Ben groans. Finn jabs his finger at the receiver. “Wipe off your angry face. Play nice, Ren.”

“PlayNiceRen. LookAtMe. I’mABigDeal.” CL mimics in the background and Ben snorts a laugh, breaking the tension.

“Okay, okay, okay…” he shakes his head, patting Finn’s hostile shoulder – if only to stop him launching himself at CL, who’s grinning foolishly. “Get out of frame. Let me ‘wipe off my angry face’ and open the channel.”

Chewie grumbles, “But that’s just the natural state of Stupid Friend’s face.”

“Shhh!” He hushes them with a smile, waving them away from the viewscreen. This is like a dare. Like a stupid, childish-

“What do you want, Ren?” Dameron’s annoying face pops up in flickering blue.

Ben sours again. He clasps his hands behind his back and  _ frowns _ at the Pilot – noting, happily, that he’s doing it right back. Breathing in through his nose, he says solidly, “Peace offering.”

Dameron’s expression changes and Ben can’t help but think that the man’s smug face asks to be beaten. Thank the stars he’s lightyears away.

Though… with the Force… perhaps he could still-

“What sort of peace offering did you have in mind?”

“Money.” Simply.

Dameron’s forehead crinkles when his brows knit together. “Say again?”

Ben holds his gaze steady and firm, due to years of practice. “I’m told that an influx of credits may help you sustain the ex-First Order worlds until they stabilize.”

The Pilot snorts. “Even God doesn’t have that much money. This will have no quick or easy resolution.”

A smirk can’t help but bloom on Ben’s face. “I may not be God – but…”

There is a silence while Dameron regards him. His head tips to one side and his eyes narrow. “You still have your hands on the First Order’s money. How?”

Ben lifts a single eyebrow and quirks his lips.

Shaking his head, scowl on his face, “How could I explain to everyone where I got the money from?”

“The Resistance had a good many anonymous donors, I’m sure. You could say that the patron didn’t want to seem over-sympathetic to the cause – but his… heart went out to those people.”

The Pilot snorts _again_ in ill humor. “You have a heart, Ren?”

His smile softens slightly, and he looks to the side. “I’d like to think that I do.”

“Hmm,” is all he hears in return. After a pause, “I’m not sure I want your dirty money.”

Ben’s expression turns hard once more. “Money is Money, Dameron. Use it for good, use it for bad. Like the Force – it just  _ is. _ Caveat, though.”

The Pilot’s eyes wordlessly pose a question mark.

“It can only be used to rebuild. No weapons of any kind.” With a sarcastic smile, he can’t help but add, “Why don’t you pay them for a cease fire?”

And clicks off the transmission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maz’s castle is more than 15 clicks back – which is where they ‘parked’. It’s been a hell of a walk and his feet hurt more-than-just-a-bit, if he’s being honest. This trader-town is worse than rustic – it’s seedy. Lowlife scum, Piss-poor Bounty Hunters and Twi’lek whores. 

Not that CL-3337 minds the whores. He kind of wonders what one of their little head tassel things really does…

RN is huffing out sighs, clearly unhappy, as Rà holds onto his hand - nearly gaping at what lies around them. True – this is not the best place for a ‘family outing’ – but, what were they going to do? Leave the kid at the Castle?

Now  _ that  _ would have been a life lesson.

“This is nice. I don’t like space so much. I like the sun.”

CL-3337 grabs the kid’s other hand and grins. Knowing the boy likes it, he counts out a familiar, “One, two,  _ three!”  _ before he and RN fling him up in the air while he giggles. They only do it once, though – because, CL-3337 has the image of a ‘cool dude’ to uphold.

Perhaps an  _ older  _ cool dude…

But still a Cool. Dude.

“I don’t like it. We don’t have enough intel. How does this ‘trapper’ even know if people are Force-sensitive? Do we even know where the pick-up is…? Or are we just out here for the change in scenery?”

The kid chimes in, “The scenery!”

All eyes turn to Rà and he withers a bit, but RN smiles at him, squeezes his hand, and the boy settles.

“Rey said earlier that the trapping-guy could be Force-sensitive, too.”

Finn nods, “That would be good, because then we might be able to feel him coming.”

Putting his hand on the butt of his blaster and ensuring that the safety is off, CL-3337 notes, “Well that might mean he could feel  _ us  _ coming, too.”

Bringing up their rear, Chewie grumbles something unintelligible… something about… ‘race?’ ‘What race?’ …Maybe?

Trash Man repeats,  _ “No intel.” _

And they all move forward in grumpy silence. Except Rà, who just seems ecstatic to be here.

Youth.

RN’s head swivels around suddenly and he freezes in his tracks, yanking the boy behind him. His eyes narrow and CL-3337 can’t help but feel his adrenaline spike. He grips his gloved hands and lets his knuckles pop as he ‘casually’ looks around.

Something… rings… like a chime. Or a bell. One strike of sound; a few beats pass, then another.

RN hunches over into a stance the trooper knows all too well, and the new silver-lined saber is in his hand faster than their eyes could see. Blindly, Finn reaches a hand behind him, his body becoming a shield for the boy alongside RN and the Wookie.

But the chiming fades away, then stops.

Finn’s mouth is set in a hard line. “Did you  _ feel  _ that?”

RN just nods, still in stance. Those milling around them in the walkway have started giving them a wide berth.

Nodding curtly at him, CL-3337 notes, “Careful of your saber. You’ll give us away.”

The man only grips it tighter. “It’s too late for that.”

“They can track us…” Finn’s voice is like a harsh whisper.

Chewie howls. CL-3337  _ thinks  _ he hears: ‘Little One’… ‘back’… ‘ship’.

But RN and Finn block the kid in tighter as an EXPLOSION blares out from the direction of the market plaza, heat searing them from only just blocks away.

Breathlessly, CL-3337 can’t help but say, “At this point, gentlemen, he may be safer with us….”

And the chime calls out, once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Master Ren squeezes his hand again.

This is scary. The fire is burning; creatures screaming, flying, and  _ running _ away – but he doesn’t know why any of this is happening.

Sir Finn is blocking him in with his bum and Mister Chewbacca is warm and hairy behind him. Even with all this scary stuff happening, he feels safe.

His new family will keep him  _ safe. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They do  _ what?” _

Three sleep-cycles ago, when they’d departed for Maz’s hellish mission, Ren had told Finn what was worth going for. 

Dathomir – a red planet of magic and mystery. Making Dark side artifacts, granting a variety of ‘powers’ for the user. All witchcraft and evil. Capturing Force-sensitive children, chaining them up in cages and…

“Midichlorians. They harvest them.”

“And you can do that… from blood?”

Ren nods, soberly.

“How do you know?”

His expression turning dark, Ren simply states, “They did it to me.”

And Finn runs his hand through his hair, puffing out a breath. “Why  _ kids  _ though? You – I get. But  _ kids?” _

Ren sits down hard, leaning over his knees and pressing his thumbs lightly into his temples. “Kids don’t have a full grasp on their access to the Force yet.”

Finn’s heart drops into his stomach. “It’s so they have no chance to…”

“… to get away,” Ren finishes his sentence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ Ching! _

Ben’s whole body is a live wire, ready to lunge at any moment – but whoever it is, they’re too far away. Instinct tells him that his team is being herded towards a capture point.

Especially when bomb number two threatens to break his eardrums open with its building-rending scream.

His head floods with static, and he grips Rà’s hand again.

Keeping anger and anxiety out of his voice at all costs, he tells the boy, “Keep it quiet, kiddo. Focus on what you need to do. I’ve got you.”

That bell sound rings out again – but twice in a row this time. There’s a slight pause between them – but it’s definitely a sequence. Heat blazes around them. If they’re being corralled, Ben thinks they should just run towards the trap and get it over with.

No need to blow everyone up just to get their attention.

He nods at Finn and CL, jutting his chin up and to the left through an alleyway that seems to empty out onto a wide street. Turning his eyes to Chewie, his uncle nods back in understanding. Ben pulls up his hood to protect himself from any raining embers, and he does the same for the boy.

“Let’s go, kiddo.”

And they all break into a rapid jog, cutting an angle to get into the alleyway in a single file.

_ Ching! ……......Ching! _

The mouth of the alleyway lets out into an unexpected fireball of a street and they hard  _ right,  _ swerving around speeders and clouds of smoke, feet pounding the pavement to get into open air.

_ Ching! ………Ching! _

CL lifts his arm at a 90-degree angle towards the sky and closes his hand into a fist. 

Ben flings his hand out to block Rà and Chewie from running past the hard line CL set with the gesture. After a brief moment, the man nods and aims his hand diagonally, pointing down a road that seems to empty into some kind of park or other green space.

Grabbing the boy’s hand and swiveling his head around once more to count his party numbers, Ben breaks into a run; sprinting behind the trooper who’s taking point to ensure a clear egress.

_ Ching! …Ching! _

He’s sweating now and his breath comes a bit faster. His saber is still in one hand and he wants to ignite it – but they’re all crowded too closely together. Instead, he focuses on the Force and barriers their perimeter, deterring burning debris from ruining an  _ otherwise perfect day. _

He grimaces, tugging on the boy a little too hard as he starts to falter. Rà seems to know enough not to complain, but he’s going to have a hard time keeping up at this pace. His legs are just too short.

_ Ching! Ching! _

It dawns on him. That sound… it’s a  _ homing device. _ The faster it rings, the closer you are to your quarry.

And  _ they  _ are the  _ quarry. _

He flings his mind out – and he feels them. Like red-pepper flakes on a map. They’re nearby, Force-signatures muted by smoke and the fire – but clear as day once he focuses in.

The trapper. The children.

They’re  _ close. _

And the trapper has a Darkside artifact.

_ Ching!Ching! _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The grass makes his feet slide in a weird way as Finn skids to a stop, blaster held parallel to his body. The smoke still coats the air in the open space. Some kind of field – but he doesn’t know what for. He doesn’t have a ton of experience with open recreation spaces. 

Or kids, for that matter. Rà is clinging desperately behind Ren, and Finn can tell that the boy is trying to keep his own mind from betraying them all with confusion.

Ren’s hand is on his saber, but they’re all too close for him to be able to use it.

“Back up.” Finn tugs at the boy; CL and Chewie move to give a wide berth, as well. The purple saber is ignited in moments, the crossguard flickering to life just after the main shaft of the blade. It spins, and Finn can’t help but cringe inside.

Seeing that blade always makes the scar on his back ache, somehow.

That chime is like a pulse, and Finn can feel… something. Something…  _ Dark. _ It’s ahead – near where the sound is coming from – but also, behind them.

Where the bombs came from.

He pivots his angle, covering their rear as they stand in a pointed diamond pattern, Rà in the middle squeezing his eyes closed and praying.

CL cocks his blaster first, holding it at eye-level with a vicious speed. Finn’s eyes follow his line of sight and two figures appear through the smoke.

Women. One is masked from the bridge of her nose over the top of her head… but her mask isn’t frightening – it makes her look like a racer. Or some kind of hero. The other is older – heavyset. Human. Her face looks – kind, somehow. She tosses something from one hand to the other, but Finn can’t see what it is through the haze.

Should he attack? Are these the ones who did this?

Finn’s good at _sending_ thoughts… but, if he hears anything back, it’s only because the thought was pointed at him in some way.

“Ren – 10 o’clock.”

Chewie growls out the 12-spot as well, as Finn aims.

Finn’s lip curls in fury as Ren confirms, “They’re the bombers. Finn – CL-3337, take them. I’ll take big boss up front. Chewie – you know what to do.”

And the Wookie slides his hands around the boy and starts to back them up.

Finn can’t help but ask, “Why do they look so… not like bad guys…?”

CL’s scowl is heard in his voice. “Because bad guys would scare the kids – and they want the kids to come  _ closer.” _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wishes he had a laser to get a bead on this bitch’s visor. She stands at a distance far enough for his blaster to be useless as she strafes to the side, farther out of range. Flicking his eyes, he sees Finn’s mark is doing the same – drawing them apart from each other.

Single combat?

CL-3337  _ grins.  _ It’s been awhile since he’s been in a good dog fight.

He bends his knees, following her, scanning the perimeter – but he’s not stupid. He yells, “How many?” and hears RN call back, “Three.”

_ No ambush, then. _ And his smile widens. Cool Dude flips modes. Cool Dude becomes  _ Cold Killer. _

He lets a shot ring out, blaster kicking back like the cheap toy it is. The shots arcs right, and the woman only needs to dodge a slight left for it to sizzle past her, harmlessly.

_ Have to adjust for that. _

At least he’s not in his shitty, shitty armor.

That bell ring is coming at a more rapid pace and it sets his teeth on edge. It’s like an alarm clock that speeds up when you don’t wake up fast enough. It has a sort of urgency and it makes him feel like a tense coil.

She seems weaponless, but that’s stupid. No one approaches Force-sensitives from a bomb zone with no weapons.

He misses his helmet and its zoom-view, so he squints his eyes over her, instead.

_ There it is. _

He has no idea what  _ it _ is – only that it’s in a small pouch to her side.

And that she’s drawing it out.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A man stands in the clearing atop the low wing of a transport, holding the chiming homing device over his head like a treasure. The pulsing picks up to a shrill ping and Ben grins sarcastically.

“You know, it’s not that I don’t find your taste in music  _ charming,  _ but I’d prefer the sound of the fires behind us. More  _ romantic.” _

The hand lowers and draws down the fabric that covers the strange man’s face. He’s… stunning. There’s absolutely no other word for it. Every ounce of his hair is alabaster white, even eyebrows and eyelashes. His irises seem to glow a dangerous ice blue.

He smirks. “You’re quite strong in the Shadow to make this sing from so far away. Normally I’d have to be Right. Up. Close.”

Even his voice is soothing...  _ inviting _ – which is a sure warning sign.

This man is the pied piper.

“I haven’t heard it called the Shadow in quite some time. You must follow the Dark side.”

The man smiles, and his eyes crinkle with sweetness. “No. I can’t touch it. Not by myself.”

Ben flicks his spitting saber toward the artifact in the trapper’s hand. “But that does.”

The man’s smile turns cruel and his fist tightens over it. Ben can’t really see it – except that a red glow seeps out and tinges the blue of this man’s eyes.

“Something tells me that, if I fight you, I won’t win. I specialize in a  _ younger  _ age.”

Ben’s stance widens, and he grimaces. “I’ve heard.”

The man sits on the edge of his transport, seemingly fearless. His smile becomes winsome, once again. Disarming. “Why don’t I call back my colleagues? We don’t kill you – you don’t kill us.”

Ben pauses a beat to let the screams of the city on fire float over them, and returns the man’s smile. “You act as if you haven’t already done a fair amount of  _ killing.” _

The man presses the artifact to his lips and it stops its shrill ring. With not an ounce of shame, the man grins, brimming with danger and amusement. “I  _ am  _ a hunter.”

And Ben reaches out with his hand, snagging the man’s Force signature and  _ clenches. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mister Chewbacca is warm. 

He also makes absolutely no sense whenever he ‘talks’ – but that’s pretty funny. At least Rà thinks so. The fact that Master Ren and the others can understand him makes for one-sided conversations. It makes him think of what it must be like for  _ others _ when he talks to Rey. 

He almost giggles, thinking about how silly he must look – but then remembers where he is.

He can barely see Master Ren anymore. Just a kind of purple blur in the distance. He keeps looking over his shoulder at the glow, even though Mister Chewbacca is pulling him far away.

But it’s the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

Master Ren is a  _ real Jedi. _

He knew it already, though, because… well… because Daddy told him so.

...All of a sudden, nothing is cool or funny anymore.

Rà is taken a bit by surprise as he runs full force into his new hairy friend, who’s stopped them suddenly. When Rà peeks his head around that wide frame, he sees… kids.

Seven kids.

Why are there kids here? It’s dangerous, isn’t it?

Mister Chewbacca is making gurgles and moaning sounds, but Rà doesn’t think they understand. They’re older. Taller. Maybe they’re thirteen?  _ That’s  _ when you’re almost a grown up, he thinks. But they also look… strange.

They all are thin, like him, and have dark circles under their eyes. One looks angry, his fists clenched so hard that his knuckles are white. One looks… happy – but in a mean kind of way. A way that looks like he might bite you. Some look away – or all around, like they’re looking for something else.

And one just looks sad. Terribly, horribly sad. Rà feels like crying just looking at her – and she’s staring  _ directly  _ at him. Her voice is soft and mournful when she says, “He’s got it. Take him.”

The mean boy flicks his head up…

… and Mister Chewbacca goes  _ down. _

And he feels… kinda…

The boy’s eyes roll back in his head as he cascades into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She keeps flicking something between her hands, and it’s distracting. Is it a bomb? Is it a projectile? But – no… Finn sees a flash of color. There’s a glint of a sparkle… and it kind of glows a soft red.

A ball.

A ball?

Then, Finn understands. He’d learned about things like this when he was in basic training. Before they’d moved him into maintenance.

It’s a  _ lure. _

She looks older. Like what he had imagined in his mind when Poe told him about what Grandparents were.

Finn could outrun her in no time, but he’s not ready yet. She just… she just doesn’t look  _ dangerous  _ enough. No armor, no weapon he can see.

“We don’t have to fight, you know.” Her voice is… sympathetic. She smiles and tips up one eyebrow at him; friendly.

He doesn’t lower his blaster, but his lips press closer together.

“I think my boss is negotiating a truce with your Master over there.”

A Finn from before would have bristled at the comment, but let the woman think what she wants.

He jabs the muzzle in her direction. “Did you bomb the city?”

She just keeps smiling and pacing sideways, away from him, saying nothing. He takes measured steps in her direction, not letting her out of his sight… not realizing that CL is getting farther and farther away.

_ “DID YOU BOMB THE CITY?” _

And she laughs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He lunges his body forward as soon as he sees her reach for whatever evil thing is hiding in her little pouch; his blaster at eye level, steadying his strides for a minimal bounce to his aim.

CL-3337 doesn’t say words. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t get angry. He just goes cold.

And fires.

The bolts flick around her, but she’s still too far for him to get great accuracy. He’s succeeding in one aspect – she’s too busy dodging him to use whatever that  _ thing  _ is. It’s in her hand now – and it’s  _ glowing. _

Which can only mean bad things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man grunts as Ben slams him onto the ground, pinning him there and trying to keep a cool head.

He hears blaster fire in the distance and Finn’s voice is shouting commands – but he can’t focus on that now. He needs to focus on this man. He waves his hand over those ice blue eyes as snow-white hair pools on the green ground of the field. It’s oddly beautiful. 

“Where are the children?”

“In the transport.”

“Headcount?”

“Delah.” Which is to say, ‘many’.

But the man’s charming grin returns – and it makes Ben wary. He twirls his saber and hisses the tip into the ground by the man’s head, returning a dangerous grin of his own – but it fades quickly.

Behind him –

He spins around and waves his hand rapidly to the side, shoving off the electric arrow bolt that had been shot his way – with  _ much more  _ power behind it than normal. He recognizes the weapon as Dathomirian, but it’s been enhanced.

Two children run towards him, now – one with deadly accuracy, and one with the ability to  _ shove  _ things – hard and fast. Both powers leveraged from the Force.

Ben blanches. He can’t fight  _ children.  _ But more are coming.

He flicks his minds over theirs – they’ve seen what can happen to them on-planet as their life’s blood gets sapped away, filtered and replaced. For  _ years. _ In  _ cages. _ To avoid it, they had to become weapons for the trapper. They see no other option – this is their only way to be safe.

It’s kill or be killed… and they are advancing with  _ abandon. _

And, held limply in the arms of one…

Is Rà.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

His eyes follow the ball – left, right. Up, down. She catches it in her palm… this time her fingers.

It’s fascinating.

Hypnotizing.

Finn shakes his head, trying to keep focus on her face, blaster trained on her.

She moves her fingers in an odd rhythm and the ball dances between them. “What’s your name, little boy?”

He doesn’t remember being a little boy. Not really. But he answers, feeling strange, “FN-2187.”

The woman’s eyebrows quirk up as the ball flutters over the backs of her hands, rolling from one to the other – like some kind of magic trick. “That’s an…” she pauses to huff a laugh,  _ “...interesting  _ name.”

“I’ve always had it.” He flicks his head to the side, trying to avoid looking at that  _ thing,  _ before deciding to just turn his face towards the sky.

She tsks, and he can hear her smile through her voice. “That can’t be what your parents named you.”

The clouds roll by before his eyes as he desperately tries not to look at her.  _ This  _ is how she gets them.

His heart hardens and his anger ramps – picturing kids  _ so interested _ that they come too close. Close enough to try and guess at how she was moving the way she was. Close enough to see her smile and the soft wrinkles on her face. Close enough to smile back and gaze at her in wonder. Close enough to want to touch the ball...

And then she takes them.

He’s absolutely sure of it. A burning taste rises up in his throat. He can’t help but wonder how many. How many little boys like Rà? All wide eyes and curious fascination.

She hasn’t advanced against Finn. No, not  _ him. _

But them.

_ Them. _

The ball flings high enough into the air to hit his peripheral vision and he bites his tongue hard enough to taste copper. Anything to stop that pull to her. Her voice is sympathetic. Loving, even. “It’s okay, little boy. Do you want me to help you remember what your real name is?”

He won’t look at her. He  _ won’t look at her. _

His voice is ice cold as he whispers, “No.”

Finn pulls the trigger.

And the ball hits the ground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light glints off the bitch’s sunshield as bolts fly by her, all of them  _ missing. _ She moves like she’s almost boneless, and he can’t get a bead on her. He’s sneering now, angling his blaster in erratic patterns, trying to guess where her body  _ might  _ go next.

It’s  _ exciting. _

Until she gets that… thing… closer to her face. It must be what RN talked about. The artifact, or whatever.

She puts it on her lips and the thing  _ resonates  _ red light. It shoots out around her like red beams – straight up into the sky – arcing like red rainbows…

Until the searing bits  _ ram  _ towards the ground and CL-3337 finds himself twisting and turning to avoid their burning stabs.

_ These were the city bombs, _ he thinks absently in the back of his mind – hardly even hearing his own thought as he focuses on not being scorched into the ground.

Her hand is raised up as the evil thing brims with red danger.

This is too much for him… he knows he can’t fight this.

He has to get to RN.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben only has to lift his hand up to block mid-sized rocks and electric bolts that fly his way. The kids are giving it their all – but they’re  _ kids…  _ and he is  _ Kylo Ren. _

He flips his hand up in a gesture and knocks one out, then another – and _another,_ and _another…_

But there are three. Three that have enough strength of mind not to succumb easily. He’d have to hurt them to do it – and he doesn’t want to hurt them. 

Looking at their cohort in fear, they drop Rà to the ground and rally, snatching each other’s hands in tight grasps and  _ pushing  _ at him.

His heels drag back into the ground and he grits his teeth and swirls his saber. He glances at it suddenly, knowing that he won’t use it…  _ except… _

He turns in a harsh gesture and  _ razes  _ the ground with the tip of his spitting blade, separating the white haired man’s head from his neck in one cauterizing clip. Completing his spin, he hunches back into his fighting stance and points the saber out viciously. Right at his eye line. 

These children need to understand that they’re outmatched. They need to  _ run.  _ Realize he’s their  _ savior. _

But all he feels from them is horror and  _ fury.  _ A deep red rage that runs through them all like a current of electricity.

He sees it in their minds now – the  _ trapper _ was their savior. Not him. The pied piper had hidden them from the Dathomirians. Selecting only a rare and precious few to hide away for himself. To help him and his crew round up other kids. Giving these ones a sort of pardon…

And they are  _ loyal. _

They rake the Dark side into their bodies with their anger and pain – but he won’t attack them. He refuses. They don’t understand – they don’t really know what they're doing. The raw power that screams from them in the Force is untempered and unfocused.

This could be dangerous – not for him… but for  _ them. _

So what now?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn dodges the firebombs as they begin to ignite the grass, working his way towards CL, who’s in a dead run towards where the purple glow of Ren’s saber echoes through the smoke.

There’s a small crowd standing around Ren, hands clasped – are those…  _ kids? _

A sort of wind is being whipped up around, and Finn can see Ren’s hair flutter with its gusts.

CL screams, “INCOMING!” And more red light streaks down from the sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CL-3337’s blaster is lowered in his arms as he  _ books it  _ towards RN and a group of little ones. Their faces are vicious in hard sneers, throwing  _ something  _ in RN’s direction. Surely the man can handle a bunch of kids – a bunch are unconscious on the ground already.

And that’s when he sees it…

Rà is one of those bodies. He knows for a _fact_ that his Supreme Leader didn’t do it. So who did?

These other  _ kids? _

His mind blanks out with fury and his training kicks in. Threats are threats. 

Bodies are just  _ bodies.  _

Lifting his weapon once more, he runs as steady as he can and trains his gun on the one with sad eyes.

The finger on the trigger squeezes.

_ Soldier up. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben feels it before he sees it and holds one hand out in a tense claw. CL’s bolt stops in midair just before it hits one of the children and they  _ gape. _

He suddenly notices the flames all around them – realizing,  _ There’s another artifact. _

Even though he’d saved her, the sad girl on the end curls her lip at him, showing her teeth, and Ben feels sizzling pain run through his body. It reminds him of Snoke and some sort or trigger goes off in his mind. All fight leaves and, instead, he goes down on one knee and  _ takes it.  _

Like he’s supposed to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His head feels funny. His eyes are heavy as he blinks, confused. Where is he? Where is Mister Chewbacca?

There are bangs. Such loud bangs. Smoke clouds his lungs and he thinks he might cough – but holds it in, just in case. He feels like he needs to be quiet right now.

Who are these kids standing over him with hate in their eyes? He follows their line of sight and sees Master Ren twisting over in pain, teeth bared, staring back at those small hateful faces with something like sadness.

Master Ren.

They’re  _ hurting  _ Master Ren.

He feels it, then – the Dark side. The  _ demon _ inside him.

And it’s  _ burning. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn’s body crumples to the ground and his hands go to his ears. The static is raging in his head and it  _ hurts.  _ He can barely breathe – can barely think.

Everything around him is going white.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben’s head is on fire, and he knows why.

The children are on the ground now, writhing with fear and confusion etched on their faces. They are screaming and twisting and  _ grasping _ at their hair, rocking, tears leaking from their young eyes.

Rà stands over them – cold fury on his face as the shadows  _ bleed  _ around him.

This is not an accident.

The boy is doing this  _ on purpose. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CL-3337 doesn’t understand – RN stopped his shot and, soon after, all the kids dropped. All at once. He’s closer now – almost there – and he can see RN’s winced expression.

Rà is standing. Straight and confident. It’s something the trooper had never seen from the boy before. The red light won’t stop pummeling the ground, and he doesn’t dare take the time to look behind him. To see how far away she might be.

Instead he screams,  _ “KID!” _

And the boy turns around. When he sees his face, Rà is smiling at him… but the smile is  _ wrong. _

It’s cruel.

~~~~~~~~

Finn’s eyes are watering, but he manages to get his sights up at the woman bombarding them. There is something in her hand. Something red.

Somewhere in the screaming static of his mind – he thinks of the Sith Holocrons.

Danger. Darkside Artifact. Darkside… arti…

He bends over once more, nausea flowing through him. 

He has to stop her. He has to _ stop her. _

But how?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben’s mind is twisted around – ringing with a screech worse than the homing device’s chime. That’s why he doesn’t see it. Doesn’t feel it. Doesn’t notice it.

But CL does.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ It’s like falling stars, _ he thinks. Instead of behind or beside him, one red beam is falling directly in front – aimed at the kid. Their kid.  _ ALL  _ the kids.

And CL-3337 can’t do anything as the searing comet hits.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s not static anymore – it’s PAIN. Pain lights up his whole body and Finn thinks he might die. His side is on fire. He feels like his insides are bleeding… but he knows it’s not him. It’s  _ not him. _

It’s Rà.

Finn’s eyes fly to the latest bombardment and Ren is on his knees, pulling a small body away from the fire that surrounds them. Finn can barely see through the black smoke.

His eyes shift one more time to the woman who’s destroying his friends. His  _ family. _

He realizes – he can send. He can  _ send. _

He gathers Rà’s pain up like a tornado inside him, feeling it and weeping thick tears down his face. His black eyes bore into that woman’s mask… and he  _ sends. _

All the pain flies from his body in the Force and the woman crumples as he  _ spears  _ her with it, the artifact falling from her hand as she screams.

_ Good, _ Finn thinks.

_ Suffer. _

__

~~~~~~~~~

The boy.  _ Their  _ boy...

CL-3337 is frozen. Everything about him has stopped. His breath. His heart.

RN is dragging that little, too thin body away from the destruction around them.

All the other kids are lost causes. Gone. Gone in a blaze.

And then he hears a scream.

He flings his head around and sees that bitch  _ drop.  _ He doesn’t know why, and he doesn’t care – all that matters is that she is  _ down. _

And now he’s screaming, too.

__

~~~~~~~~~

Finn hears CL and sees him out of the corner of his eyes. His scream is raw, animalistic, and his weapon blares out. Shot after shot after shot.

The first one clips her, but she’s already howling, so it doesn’t seem to change much – other than her posture.

The second one turns her cries into a bubbling gurgle.

The third one stops the sounds completely.

But CL keeps shooting, anyway, advancing on her, voice pummeling the air around him in mournful sound waves.

And he doesn’t stop.

He just doesn’t stop shooting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No.  _ No, no, no, _ kiddo. Hey, come here. Come here, I’ve got you.”

It hurts. He’s never felt anything like this before. Something smells funny. Smells like things are burning. It must be the smoke.

He doesn’t stop to consider that it might be  _ him. _

The man holding him in his arms is crying, and Rà knows the buzzing sound is back. But his thoughts are cloudy. He almost forgets what to do… and when he remembers, he can’t help but think…

… he’s not sure he likes flowers anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben cradles him. Rà’s eyes are half lidded and he knows that time is short for this little boy. Their little boy.  _ His  _ little boy.

There is charred flesh up Rà’s side and he’s bleeding. He’s bleeding  _ too much. _

Ben closes his eyes – everything is in chaos – shots firing, flames burning, screams… but he can’t focus on that right now.

“Rà?”

His voice is so small. “Y-yeah, Master Ren?”

Ben can’t help but smile as another tear rolls out. “I need you to do something. I need you to reach out for the Light. Reach out for that angel you talk about. Can you do that?”

There is a pause as the little one’s breath hitches. “I… I can’t remember the flowers, Master.”

Somehow…  _ somehow…  _ a calm washes over him. A cool wave. “Don’t think of the flowers. Think of Rey.”

Even now, the boy’s lips turn up in a little smile as his chest rises and falls in stutters.

“I love Rey.”

“And Rey loves you. Think about your love for her. Think about it, okay? Just close your eyes and calm yourself. Reach for the Light, Rà. I need you to  _ reach for the Light.” _

And Ben reaches too, laying his hands over the boy’s wounds, tears cascading from his eyes as he  _ opens  _ himself.

He doesn’t demand the Force. He doesn’t even  _ ask  _ the Force. His head is clear and airy – like a kind of meditation. Like he might float at any moment.

It flows through him then. Like it always could have, if he’d just let it.

He feels love amid the calm – but it’s different. It’s not the feeling of a Master or even a parent – it’s a love of everything within the little boy. Deep down into his muscles; into his cells. A respect and appreciation for the miracle of complexity that is life. 

In this moment, he doesn’t need love, himself. This feeling has nothing to do with that. This feeling  _ transcends. _

His palms are warm, and that’s all he can sense right now. He thinks his heart must be glowing. He knows that it’s not… but… it  _ feels  _ that way.

A tiny hand slides over his, clasping it. Safe. Sound. Whole.

He hears the boy’s voice crisp and clear. Healthy and unhurt. Loving and happy. 

“Master Ren?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn grabs onto the screaming CL from behind and the man  _ writhes  _ in his arms, trying to throw him off – but Finn holds him tight, trying desperately to soothe him.

Finally, CL breaks into sobs and just  _ let’s go,  _ hanging against Finn’s body. His arms are looped under the trooper’s and he can feel CL’s chest heave.

Finn’s voice is heavy with sorrow. “We’ve got to go see him, okay? We’ve got to go  _ see him.” _

CL weakly tries to throw him off once more, and Finn lets go this time. The man hunches, hands on his knees, pulling back a harsh sniffle before dragging his gloved hand over his face.

In a movement that makes no sense, CL grunts and rips off his glove. One, and then the other one, throwing them on the dead woman’s body. Kicking her, the body rocking pointlessly to the side.

Finn rests a hand against him once more, as gently as possible.

Not facing him, CL sniffs harshly once more. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

They hear a laugh. A hearty, booming laugh. A small giggle joins it and they both spin to face behind them.

Ren is hugging the boy – and the boy is  _ hugging him back. _

He did it.

_ He did it. _

That son of a bitch  _ did it! _

Finn’s voice is reverent. “Rey…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finn helps Ren back on the ship, Rà following behind them like a sweet little shadow.

They all look like hell. Ren is weak, and they’ve had a long walk. 

Chewie had found them; he and CL stayed behind to get the remaining kids out of the transport. They were in rough shape. Some were already in harnesses and rigged up. It was so bad, CL refused to let Rà inside… though it was likely the boy will remember the hell of this day, no matter what.

The fires were still raging when they left.

“You should wait.”

“I’m done waiting.”

And Finn understands.

He kicks open the med-bay door and ushers Ren inside, sitting him down on the floor. Rà’s eyes are flooded with hope and they crinkle on the sides as he pushes his filthy, singed hair off of his face.

Rey is light in his arms, and Finn can’t help but remember a time when he was so in love with her that he couldn’t think about anything else. But, as he sets her in the arms of his once-enemy, he feels… joy. A sense of  _ rightness.  _

Peace. 

Ren’s knees are folded to give her something to lay on. Soot, sweat and small cuts line his face, but he looks happy. His eyes close and he places his hands on her. One on her belly, and one on her heart.

Finn feels it, then. It’s almost like that feeling when Ren healed his saber. That… Light. Try as he might, there is simply no other way to describe it.

It’s just…  _ Light. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben pulls her onto his lap, staring at her beautiful, still face. 

He’d wasted his life before, he knew that now. But, if anyone could have helped to show him the way forward, helped him be  _ ‘Ben’ _ again – it was her.

He knows how weak he is – he knows her should  _ wait…  _ but his stubbornness wins out in the end. 

_ As it always does, _ he thinks, and the thought amuses him slightly.

He closes his eyes. Opens himself up to the Force once more. This is different from Rà – but he believes the Force will help him give her what she needs. 

He’s done what his Grandfather asked him to do. He’s learned how to  _ give of himself. _

Ben pours everything into her. He finds reservoirs he didn’t even know he had. He gives her his whole self. Every. Last. Piece.

Her diaphragm rises with breath, and her warm hand covers his. Her eyes open – and  _ light up. _

Rey seems surprised to see him. Awed. Sitting up, she doesn’t draw away as she had always done in life – and he knows in his heart that she will never draw away again. They stare at each other for a moment as he waits for her to understand what’s just happened.

She smiles so sweetly, and whispers, “Ben?”

She’s  _ glad  _ to see him. Glad to be with him in this moment. This…  _ this  _ is the greatest gift she could ever give him. Her joy. Her love. 

His heart is full as Rey reaches for his face, letting her fingers linger against his cheek. And then, she leans forward and  _ kisses  _ him. A kiss of gratitude, acknowledgement of their connection, a celebration that they’d found each other at last. 

But then she draws back, concern on her face. He can feel himself… growing cold.

And he smiles at her.

He’s given Rey back to the Galaxy. It won’t atone for the darkness he’d wrought, but it's what he could do.

Ben Solo has no regrets as he collapses to the ground, the Force reaching for him in welcome. His final awareness is of Rey, clasping his hand with her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end segment of this chapter mirrors the end of The Rise of Skywalker novel by Rae Carson. It takes passages, some verbatim – with only a few additional additions / tweaks from me. I do not take credit for Rae’s work, and I’m grateful that she was able to insert some of the romance we all saw in Ben and Rey’s relationship – helping to make that spark of love truly canon. Even if it was only at the end.
> 
> I know this chapter ended in a rough place - so I ask you to trust me.
> 
> There is one more chapter left, my friends. Just one more.
> 
> Join me...  
> ...please.


	32. The Call of the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a bonus chapter of behind the scenes stuff and FAN LOVE. (And sequel teaser...)

  
  


Art by [ Verauko](https://www.deviantart.com/verauko) (Approved for use~)

_________________

Finn holds the boy’s hand as they slowly shuffle through the cargo hold. Neither of them says anything.

In the med-bay, Rey had just shrunk down onto Ren’s limp body with a shuddering sob – no words. Finn hadn’t even looked into her living eyes yet… but he knew she needed privacy.

And the boy didn’t need to watch her mourn.

Rà is in shock, it seems. His face is blank and smeared with ash. His clothes are all but obliterated up one side and his fresh, new skin is stark in contrast.

It’s with a scraping metallic sound that Finn hoists back the familiar grating, exposing the channel to Ren’s secret hideout, below. He doesn’t smile – he can’t even force it – but he does nod at the boy and offers his hands to help him down.

As he clicks on the light, it softens the otherworldly glow of the Holocrons. It’s true that he feels conflicted, but he knows that Ren would do this.

Ren would  _ want  _ him to do this.

It seems the best way to honor him, now.

He gets down on one knee and takes the boy's hands, sliding his brown thumbs over the pale skin while his eyes focus on the motion. He swirls the fingers back and forth for a minute, finding his words.

“You know…” he clears his throat, “Master Ren believed that knowledge was one of the most important things. He thought that…” Finn trails off, unsure of where that train of thoughts leads.

His nostrils flare as his eyes fog with unshed tears. He looks at the light that diffuses around what once was Little Bandit’s hideout.

Finn didn’t know about Little Bandit.

And almost everyone who did is dead now.

He squeezes the boy’s palms between his fingers once more and starts again.

“We did something  _ special  _ today. Something new and different. And, Master Ren said that when you do something like that, you need to make a record – so that other people can learn from you.”

His voice heavy with sorrow, Rà asks, “But isn’t what we did today bad?”

Finn doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t know how to answer. Maybe what they did today  _ was _ bad – they hurt people. But they were bad people who wanted  _ bad  _ things.  _ Did  _ bad things. Finn, Rà… they did it for the greater good. They were in the right, weren’t they?

But… was the ‘greater good’ in the forefront of their minds during those moments? Or was it something else…?

Does this sorrow come with the territory of leveraging your pain for power? If so – it must just build on itself. Pain on top of pain on top of pain. Like a monster. Like a vortex. Until you drown in it.

Questions – so many questions – they all pile up in Finn’s heart like heavy sand. Weighing each other down so completely that it’s hard to separate one from the other.

With no words to offer, all he does is reach out for a Holocron, weighing it in his hands.

“I think that all we have to do is speak to it. Tell it what we did… how we felt before it happened… how it made us feel while we were doing it… how we think we possibly did it at all. Can you do that?”

Rà drags a hand over his eyes and takes in a shuddering breath, nodding.

“Then, let’s do this.”

Finn focuses in on it… and it opens. Like he knew it would. He’s not sure how, but he can feel its hunger for the information it’s about to receive. Almost as if it were alive. The glow within it amplifies, casting colors on their faces.

It’s a beautiful thing, really.

Such a beautiful color red. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silence.

It’s been a long time since Ben Solo has heard silence. And, for once, there’s no one in his head to hear it alongside him. No Snoke, Grandfather, Palpatine, Rey, Finn, Rà…

He’s alone.

When you think about it, as lonely as he’d always felt, he’d never actually been alone.

But now he is, and a wide void fills his vision.

His feet are planted firmly beneath him, but on what? He can’t tell. Everything is white. Not hazy, not glowing – but an absentness. A blankness.

But, just like the color itself, white doesn’t mean empty.

He’s flooded with the Force. It’s like he’s one with the stars, the moons, the suns. He’s the withering leaves, the frost, the thaw. The grass, the air, the waves, the flame. He is the mouse, the fox, the hunter, the gun, the maggots. The good, the bad. The beautiful, the ugly. He is  _ everything. _

But – also, not.

He’s a part of it. It’s a part of him… but it flows over and through him. It’s different. They are  _ separate;  _ this omniscient ‘him’ and the Force that is ‘all’.

The more he thinks about the line delaminating  _ him _ from  _ it,  _ the clearer it becomes. The heavier he becomes on his feet, pads and heels pressing further onto the flat surface of nothing.

A warm voice calls to him. “I know your name.”

Ben looks up slowly into the warm blue eyes of an old man. He looks… pleasant, if not a little detached. His brown robes cover his body in a monkish fashion and Ben wonders aloud, “Who are you?”

The man smiles and there’s something about his gaze. 

It reminds Ben of someone younger. Iconic. He knows this man’s eyes from all his research: historical records and old Holos. He sighs out a stunned, “Master Obi-Wan?”

The gentleman’s eyes twinkle. “You can call me Ben, if you’d like. We can be ‘Ben’ together.” He takes pensive strides along nothing but emptiness, circling him. “Though – you have other titles I could use, don’t you? I’ve always been curious about them. Would you indulge an old man?”

Ben nods, staring at his namesake. The man who’d awakened Skywalker to the Force. The man whom his mother had begged for help.

“You’re called the Lost Prince of Alderaan.”

Ben shakes his head in amusement. “Only by a handful of people… and only when I was  _ very  _ young.”

“The Jedi Killer.”

His face grows serious.

But this grandfatherly ‘Ben’ seems to pass no judgement, simply moving on to the next. “Kylo. And Ren... how did you come by these names?”

There is a great pause as Ben thinks about how to best articulate it.

“I didn’t want to be a Skywalker. Or a Solo. Those hero names were just… too  _ much  _ for me. I wasn’t them. I wasn’t as good as  _ them. _ But I thought that a part of me could still achieve greatness. And… if I could just cut out a part of each for myself, I could let the rest fall away.”

He breathes in. “S-‘KY’-walker. So-‘LO’. I cobbled them together. It was a… fantasy version of my perfect self.

“As for Ren. There was a  _ real  _ Ren, once. It was both his name and the name of his bled kyber. Maybe more like the relationship between them. I took everything from him – before he could take everything from me. I took his name, his knights, and his life. I  _ earned  _ the name ‘Ren’.”

“Supreme Leader.”

Ben scowls. “I earned that one, too.”

“Jedi Master Ren. Last I knew, there were no more Jedi Masters.”

He merely shrugs. “It’s convenient.”

“RN-2186.”

He smirks. “There’s a story behind that one.”

“There’s a story behind all of them, it seems.” Obi-Wan’s eyes are joyful as he comes nearer. “Ben Solo. How did you come by this name?”

Eyebrows knitting together, he’s unsure what’s being asked.

“It’s a legacy name. To honor greatness.  _ Your _ greatness. To… remind me of your strength, excellence and Light. Your perseverance, bravery and… well, it’s an example of what I was supposed to emulate. Live up to.”

The old man pats his arm and shakes his head with a soft smile. “No, dear boy. No.” Obi-Wan pulls Ben into a firm embrace before letting him go and catching his eyes. “Your mother and your uncle were separated at birth. Neither knew the other one existed – but their connection to  _ me  _ brought them together. It allowed them to  _ find  _ each other. In a way, I made them a family.

“Having  _ you  _ in their life made Han Solo and Leia Organa a  _ family.” _

He steps back, holding Ben’s arms with compassion. “It’s time to stop thinking of the legacy that came before you. Start focusing on what legacy you’d like to  _ leave behind.” _

Those steps continue, back and back and back, until Obi-Wan…  _ Ben  _ Kenobi is no more. Winks out in a moment. As if he’d never been there. 

Ben pauses, listening to the echoes of nothing as he lets the sentiment sink in. What kind of legacy  _ would  _ he like to leave behind? He’d never thought of achieving anything on his own; not really. His whole life had been dedicated to other people’s causes. Rey, Palpatine… the Jedi.

As if summoned, he hears a familiar voice.

“Hey, kid.”

His first thought is to get angry. His hand goes to the saber on his belt… but, he’s too tired for any of that. Instead he sighs out, not looking behind him, acknowledging, “Skywalker.” 

His tone is almost conversational, and for that, he is proud.

“I’ve failed you, Ben.”

And he can’t help but huff a laugh, remembering their last duel. “Did you come to say you forgive me? To save my  _ soul?”  _ he repeats.

He hears a rough and expected, “No.” 

But… the voice changes, then. It softens. It becomes the voice of a man he’d once loved. It holds the compassion of a man he’d once called his Master. “I’ve come to explain why I did it.”

It’s only then that Ben turns to look at his once-uncle. He’s still in the robes he’d disappeared in; had likely died in... after tricking him – _ humiliating him  _ – on that white salted field of blood. 

Skywalker’s eyes are filled with sorrow and the familiar sarcasm is gone. Still, Ben wants to sneer out,  _ And what if I don’t want to -listen-? _

But he does. He’s always wanted to know why his life had fallen apart.

“You were asleep, but I thought I heard you. I knew you had nightmares, though you never talked about them. Like they were a secret. You had a lot of secrets, Ben.

“I came in… and I touched your mind. What I saw – the  _ future  _ I saw… terrified me. I didn’t know what to do but, for a brief moment, I thought I could stop it. I thought I could save everyone that you would soon destroy.

“I lit my blade, but then I realized – you’d actually done  _ nothing wrong,  _ yet. But by then, it was too late. The look in your eyes told me that this act was the last in a long line of coffin nails I’d been hammering for years. My distance from you. My curtailing your talent… because I knew it would exceed my own. Not telling you about Vader. Not acknowledging the Darkness inside you… not letting you know that it lives inside  _ everyone.  _ Even  _ me. _

“But – before that moment, Ben…  _ you’d done nothing wrong. _

_ “I  _ was wrong. You were fighting so hard against an enemy that no one saw – but I became the enemy who truly betrayed you in the end.”

Ben feels dead inside. All he can say is, “The decisions I made were  _ my  _ decisions.”

Luke Skywalker does smirk a little, then. “Were they?”

He hisses, then.  _ “Yes.  _ I chose to go to Snoke. I could have run anywhere. But I went to  _ him.  _ He was always with me. Watching me…  _ helping  _ me. He could be cruel – but I  _ earned  _ that cruelty. No one loved every piece of me – but at least he was more  _ honest  _ about it.

“When I went to him… he  _ sympathized  _ with me. He didn’t  _ blame  _ me.” Ben’s voice breaks, “He  _ held me!  _ Do you know how long it had been since anyone even  _ touched me?  _ I didn’t even know what to do with it, at first… but I remembered what I was supposed to do and held him back. 

“In that moment, I became willing to do  _ anything  _ for him. Even when it meant going against my sense of right and wrong – even when he would  _ hurt me  _ or even try to kill me. Even when he would tell me how much he wanted to  _ replace me… with you.”  _ His breath is raging through him and his shoulders rise and fall as he gestures, punctuating his sentences.

“But at least he was  _ honest.  _ He didn’t pretend to love me. He let me know that I was his  _ weapon  _ and that my job was to make sure I remained a useful one. He didn’t look the other way at my failings or weaknesses. He addressed them. Made me  _ overcome  _ them. He didn’t  _ hold me back.” _

“No, you’re right about that.” Skywalker’s face is sad as he looks Ben straight in the eyes. “Instead, he took your weaknesses and your strengths… and  _ exploited  _ them.”

Ben knew that. He did. He knew it in his heart – and that’s one of the reasons that Snoke had to die. But… when he had first gone with him…  _ back then…  _ Snoke was his  _ savior. _

Just like the pied piper was for the children.

And it clicks.

“I’m sorry, Ben. All of this… if I could do it over again… if I could  _ change it –  _ then I would. But, even now, I’m not ready to forgive you for everything that you’ve done.”

A single tear falls down Ben’s cheek. “I’m not ready to forgive you, either.”

His once-Master nods, stepping back, just as Obi-Wan had. That sarcastic smile and twinkle in his eyes returns. “But life is long – and, being one with the Force? That’s even longer. Maybe someday.”

Ben finds his head moving slightly up and down in agreement. “Maybe.”

In the last step before Luke Skywalker fades away, his words echo his previous partings. “See you ‘round, kid.”

And he’s gone. He knows, though, that someone else will come...

Ben’s stomach flips and he feels sick.

Wrapping his arms around himself, he  _ knows _ who comes next. It doesn’t matter if he’s ready for her or not; she’s coming. And, he knows exactly what he’ll do when he sees her. He’s dreamed of it so many times.

He feels her. He’s always felt her when she was close by. Her presence both soothes and sears him, but what can he do? Push her away? 

No. Whatever he gets, he’s earned.

So he turns around, eyes on the ground, and gets down on his knees. In a slow and careful movement, he unhooks his saber and slides it across the nothing-floor in the direction of her familiar feet. The hilt spins slightly before the blade’s exit points harmlessly off to the side.

“I don’t want to fight you anymore, Mom.”

He won’t look up. In his periphery, he sees her feet hide themselves inside her skirting. She’s gotten on her knees, too. Her delicate fingers, still coated in heirloom rings, reach out to touch his weapon and he sees her lift its weight into her palms.

“I need you to know that I didn’t take the kill shot. When our team attacked your ship – I didn’t know you were on it. My thumb was on the trigger, aimed at the bridge – but I  _ felt you.  _ And I couldn’t do it. I  _ wouldn’t  _ do it.”

“It didn’t stop it from happening, though, did it, Ben?”

He winces and hangs his head lower, threads of his hair covering his eyes. “No. No it didn’t.”

There is a pause. Her voice sounds so much older, gravelly. “What was the difference between killing me and killing your father?”

His head sinks down even lower and he bends at the waist. If he could press his forehead into the emptiness and put himself at her mercy, then he would. Let her ignite the blade and take her revenge.

But that was not Leia Organa.

She preferred blasters.

“When Snoke tested me, wanting me…  _ expecting me _ to kill Han S-“ …he swallows, “…Dad… it – it broke me. I didn’t think it would. I thought it would  _ fix  _ me. Take away any of the hesitation I’d felt in giving myself to the Dark side. That it would help me let the past die. 

“But, it didn’t. 

“When I didn’t shoot, for a moment – just a moment – I wanted someone to stop me. I wanted everything to be over. I didn’t want to kill you because I didn’t want to win anymore.

“I didn’t want two dead parents.”

He hears his mother bounce his hilt in her hands, the metal clinking off of her rings.

“I loved your father. We were both too stubborn and too hot-headed to make it work – but the last straw was us choosing to send you away.  _ Me  _ choosing to send you away. He thought I should train you, myself… but I thought you were too dangerous for just me.” She sighs.

“I want you to know that he fought it. He fought tooth and nail – but, once you…  _ left _ the temple the way that you did – he reached out and told me that I was right. That there was ‘too much Vader in you’.

“I’ve never been more unhappy to be right in my life.”

There is a heavy pause between them before Leia Organa speaks again. “What made you change your mind, once you became Supreme Leader? You slowed your expansion and focused on hunting us and wiping the Resistance out. What made you do that?”

He can’t help the petulance in his voice as he spits out, “You took her away from me.”

His mother’s voice is filled with acknowledgement. “Rey.”

His volume escalates in this otherwise silent space. “I knew I needed her – the minute I saw her, I saw a missing puzzle piece that I needed to make me whole. But, she kept choosing you… even though she  _ wanted  _ to be with me. In the end, no one  _ ever chooses me!”  _

Her hand touches his shoulder and he almost yanks away. It’s like the contact burns him, even though he knows that feeling is not real.

“The Dyad? Is that why you pursued her? Why you’ve worked so hard to save her? Just to ‘become whole’?”

He shakes his head, hair waving back and forth over his brow. “It’s more than that, now.”

“Love?”

He nods, unable to articulate how much that word can’t describe the depth of what he feels.

“Does she love you?”

He can’t help but feel the corners of his mouth twitch up. “Yes.”

His mother's voice drops a bit. “Does she even  _ know  _ you? All of you?”

Without a shadow of doubt in his mind he replies with a solid, “Yes.” 

It’s then that he looks up into his mother’s face… and she’s…

Smiling.

It’s soft, and sad… but it’s there.

His heart aches and tears flood his eyes. He suddenly finds he has so much to say to her – so,  _ so  _ much more… but she’s fading away. Leaving him behind again, like always. Panic rises in his chest as he reaches up to grasp the hand that touched him, but all he can feel is cold metal against his palm.

Pulling his hand back, he looks at what she’d left behind. It’s her ring. Its twin blue orbs twine together with gold metal. One stone had represented his father… and one, him. She’d had it made when he was born.

She’d kept it… all this time.

He doubles over with her ring held against his chest, taking in shuddering breaths. Like he’d mourned his father, he now mourns his mother. He didn’t kill her, no… she killed  _ herself.  _

To save him.

When he and Rey battled on the wreckage of the fallen Death Star, his heart had gone cold. He was so tired of being rejected by her. Tired of scorching planets to find her. Fighting monsters to keep safe a woman who clearly wanted none of him. He came at her, as he always did, never taking advantage of an opening – just trying to prove a point. Trying to  _ remind her  _ of his strength. What she had to  _ gain  _ by being with him.

After all, no one would join him unless there was something to  _ gain. _

But the water was biting. Sapping him of his strength – and she faltered. For a moment, the briefest of moments, he thought of not pulling his punch – but then he’d  _ heard  _ her. His mother. Reaching out beyond the stars – something she didn’t have the training to do. Something Skywalker  _ died  _ in doing.

And his heart broke. None of it made any sense.

None of it.

Who was he? What was it he was trying to accomplish? What was he proving to anyone?

And then his own blade rammed through his body, skewering his lung – and he fell.

In his mind, he’d felt that it was poetic. His mother had tried to save him from going too far into the Darkness – and, in doing so, killed them both.

Maybe this was a good way to die. 

Maybe he’d always been fated to die this way.

But then… Rey’s hand was on him – so warm; tears falling from her eyes. She… was  _ saving him.  _ Even though he was a  _ monster. _

When he heard her mournful voice, “I did want to take your hand…  _ Ben’s _ hand…” it stunned him so deeply that he was unable to move. Even as he watched her steal his ship. Even as that ship flew into the stratosphere…

And everything fell apart in his life once more. But, that need to save her from Palpatine… it only grew. If it was a blaze before – it became a raging inferno.

His father had been half right – his son  _ was alive.  _ Kylo Ren, however, was not dead. Even so, the part of him that wanted to  _ be  _ ‘Kylo Ren’… was missing. Silent.

A voice startles him out of his thoughts. 

“I’m proud of you. You did it – you did what I never could.”

Ben sniffs back a heavy wetness and wipes his nose on the back of his sleeve, turning those ever-mournful eyes on Anakin Skywalker; his false idol. His voice fills with relief. “Then – it worked? I saved her?” His lips pull into a half smile, before fading into horror.

“How do I get back? Grandfather – I have to go... she’ll…”

“Think you abandoned her? Be heartbroken without you?”

Ben shakes his head, vehemently. “She might try to _follow me_ – but that can’t happen. The Galaxy _needs_ her. There’s still so much left to do…” he trails off. 

“If it can’t be me, then  _ fine _ . If I need to stay here – then  _ you _ go. Go to her in her dreams. Send my mother… send  _ Skywalker!  _ I don’t care who – but don’t let her give up! Tell her that  _ she’s not alone.  _ Chewie loves her – Finn loves her – Rà loves her. She is  _ not alone.” _

His Grandfather looks at him, curiously. Disbelieving. Nearly scoffing, “But, that would mean that you’d be without her. What if she moves on? Falls in love with Finn – or anyone else? Starts a family. What if the Dyad’s red thread snaps, and you’re left behind?”

Without hesitation, “Then that’s  _ fine.  _ I don’t need her to be tied to me. The fact that she loved me at all is more than I deserve. If she can live without me – then I want her to  _ live.” _

Hunkering down, Anakin Skywalker sits beside him, pulling up his knees and latching his arms around them.

“When I thought Padme didn’t need me… had  _ betrayed  _ me – I wanted her to die. I let her go in the end – but maybe it was only because Obi-Wan was there. Otherwise, I might have actually killed her. Then Leia, Luke… and you… none of you would have ever been born. No one would have been strong enough to stop Palpatine – or  _ me. _

“But she didn’t die… not then; even though Palpatine told me she did. When I thought  _ I’d killed her _ – I gave myself completely to the Dark side. 

“That is  _ exactly _ what Palpatine wanted to repeat through you. He used the Snoke-puppet to make you do something you could never forgive yourself for. To stoke your self-hatred and pain until you had  _ no choice  _ but to take a vicious hold of the Dark side. Take your pain and use it to hurt others. Humiliate them. Overpower them. Control them.  _ Kill them. _ Not because of orders – but just because you  _ wanted  _ to. Leveraging that pain and hate to grow even more powerful.

“That is who I became.

“That is who I  _ don’t want you to become.”  _

Ben wipes his eyes once more and tightens his grip around his mother’s ring. “I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to hurt any of them.”

“Neither did I, once upon a time. I only wanted to help. I only wanted to save. There’s a saying: ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions’… and that’s what I was on. The road to hell. And I never even saw it.

“That’s why I want you to see it, Ben. No matter how far down that road you’ve travelled – it’s never too late to  _ stop.  _ It’s never too late to stop and make a  _ good choice.” _

Something’s… off. Ben’s eyelids grow heavy and he feels himself start to falter. “G-grandfather?”

“Make a good choice, Ben. I believe in you. I know you can do it. I’ll always be here for you – even if you can’t see me.  _ We  _ will always be here. You’re not alone. Neither of you will ever truly be alone.”

Ben’s body collapses through the nothingness, anything sustaining his weight suddenly evaporating, and he falls. Down and down… 

He feels tired.

So  _ tired. _

Something is pulling him – but he’s fighting it. He doesn't even know why...

Ben stares into the void with his Grandfather’s words echoing in his head.  _ Make a good choice. Make the -right choice-. _

And so he gives in to the will of the Force. He lets go. He  _ succumbs.  _

Ben Solo closes his eyes… 

… and makes the choice to  _ wake up. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben can’t help but fidget in his clothing as he waits for the ceremony to begin. 

Poe Dameron stands coldly with his hands behind his back. “The Alliance has agreed to sanctions on Dathomir.  _ Steep _ ones. Your intel was good – and we found more kids. A  _ lot  _ more. Planetwide. Unfortunately, not all of them survived the rescue.”

It takes a moment for Ben to truly appreciate what that sentence means. “And the Dark side objects?”

“Destroyed. Surprised you didn’t want them for yourself.”

But Ben ignores the barb. “And the Sentient Species Violation Acts?”

Dameron smiles a bit this time. “No torture, no genocide. Force-sensitives added as a special clause. Goes through the Alliance Senate today.”

“And you think it will pass?”

The pilot nods. “With flying colors.”

He sighs. It’s relief and… something else. The Pilot starts to turn and walk away, perfunctory conversation over. Still – Ben calls out to him. “Thank you.”

Dameron turns on his heels and walks backwards, not stopping for a moment. “On a leash, Ren. This changes nothing. I still have you on a leash.”

Ben grimaces and thinks he’ll never stop wanting to kill this man. 

Having obviously gotten the reaction he’d wanted, the Pilot smiles sarcastically. “But I’ll take your thankfulness, anyway. I’ll put it in my pocket and hold it over your head, later.”

He’s going to knock him out; he  _ swears  _ he's going to  _ knock that son of a bitch out _ – but his internal bomb diffuses as he feels someone else walk in the room. 

The man is so  _ bright  _ and  _ chipper  _ that it soothes his mood. “Ren.”

He hears the smile in that voice and smiles back with a contented sigh. “Ciel.”

The trooper turns him around and grabs at him, hugging and patting him on the back firmly. “Today is the day!” Ciel, once a Stormtrooper for the First Order, smooths out Ben’s regalia. Ben can’t help but sneer at it in an overexaggerated way, but Ciel just rolls his eyes.

“At least it’s blue. You said you liked blue.”

Ben grumbles half-heartedly. “Yeah, I said I liked blue.”

“You should see Miss Rey.”

And then Ben’s smile goes wide. “Oh?”

Ciel nods, fluffing his own cape behind him. “The design you asked for is  _ perfect.  _ Fits her like a dream. And I did her hair up, like you taught me – it’s stunning. I feel like I should take her for myself – though she’d never go for me.”

“Too old.”

Ciel grumbles but is pointedly ignored. “Just keep your eyes up front. Everyone’s here to see you – but you can play with them later.”

Ben snorts at the word, ‘play’.

“The fact that I get to be on the dais. I feel, like, honored.”

“You should,” and Ben looks at him haughtily. 

The trooper whacks him once on the ass, and it startles Ben into a sort of yelp. Ben follows suit and  _ whaps  _ his best friend upside the head… and he does it with the Force.

Ciel takes the blow and giggles, waving him off. “Alright – alright, enough of this crap. I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you in five. Oh? And Ren?”

Ben hmms at him, picking off some last-minute lint.

“You’ve got this. You’re going to be  _ good _ at this.”

Ben smiles. It’s genuine and hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Hell-yeah.” And Ciel throws him a wink before ducking out, futzing with his rattail braid on the way.

He breathes in deeply. He’s still not sure he can do this. He doesn’t know if he’ll  _ ever  _ be sure… but he’s going to do his best. He’s going to focus on his better self and the Balance within him. Within her. Within  _ all  _ of them.

Putting away another small smile, he focuses on showing his strongest expression, working his way out the archway and down the velvet lined aisle in steady steps. He won’t falter now.

It’s just too important.

The crowd to either side of him is overwhelming and starts to cheer. It might be slightly overboard… or  _ more than  _ slightly – but it pleases him anyway.

Despite Ciel’s warning, he can’t help but pass his eyes over the crowd – searching for certain faces. The faces of his friends. And he finds them.

Jannah stands with Lando, and both are dressed in a flamboyant style. Ben is amused to see that his uncle had gotten her prescribed to his sensibilities. Finn stands beside her. His grin is heartening, and he rests his hand on Jannah’s shoulder. Together, they’ve reintegrated several cells and have a community of ex-troopers underneath them, continuing the effort, spreading across systems.

_ Not ex-troopers, _ he reminds himself,  _ just -Humans-. _

Chewie stands opposite, on the other side of the aisle. He wraps his heavy arm around his wife and nuzzles into her slightly. Ben holds in a smile, but his eyes crinkle a bit with love. Chewie’s son stands beside them, and Ben can’t help but look into his mind. 

He’s proud of his father.  _ Proud. _ And Ben feels like his heart might fly.

He sees her then. Rey.  _ His  _ Rey. She’s always been fond of white, but this dress is more than that. It clips in a sharp angle at her shoulders, letting the toned curve of one show off her meaningful scar, as the breathable skin-tight fabric snugly holds her chest in. Grey threads weave geometric patterns over her and down the panels of her skirting. It’s split high up on the sides, almost to her waist, to allow for the movement she requires in all her clothing, but he’d convinced her to wear more figure-hugging grey leggings below.

She is amazing. His mouth nearly waters at the sight of her, and his ardor only doubles when he sees her turn pink, surely sensing his thoughts. Keeping his face serious, he slides his thumb over the inside of his ring finger, feeling the ridges of raised skin. Rings don’t go well with sabers, and he wanted her mark on him, always. Their tattoos match one another. 

He sports crimson rings in varying widths, winding up from the edge of his palm towards his first knuckle. Hers is the same, but in a deep burgundy – which looks better on her tanned skin. She’d whined about the pain on their wedding day, but she wears it with pride now, pressing her lips to it – their secret sign that simply means, ‘I love you’.

Rà grasps her other hand, and his smile is endless. The last of his baby teeth are coming out, and the gap in the front makes Ben want to laugh. They’d finally gotten some meat on him, which was good, and he looks healthy at last. He’s been learning Shyriiwook with Ciel – but both of them tried to actually  _ speak  _ the language, which he thinks is absolutely hysterical and it sends him into gales Every. Time.

Ciel stands to the right hand of the raised stage, a figure of strength and stoicism. 

If they only knew…

The dias stands before him now and he makes eye-contact with every sentient who would wish it so. They are dressed in their finest, or most austere. To each his own.

Behind every leader stands a male and female of each planetary race. Each representing their cultures and requirements. The number of them is impressive, and he feels the familiar threads of doubt and fear wind their way over his heart.

He snips them before their hold becomes too strong.

If he’s going to be what they need, then he needs to be beyond fear. He needs his passion, his calm, his perseverance, his dedication. 

His Balance.

He kneels before them, blue cape fluttering as it drops onto the ground.

The leaders of the nine planets step towards him as one, and he feels them press  _ it _ against him. It’s heavy, which is a representation of its importance. 

They ask him questions. Vows so similar to his wedding vows.

Protect, Serve, Despite hardships and failings, With only them and their best interests ever in mind. Each race has specific asks: Religious freedom, right to protest, so so many more.

And he agrees to them all.

He’ll uphold them. Every promise. Every word. Until the day he dies.

He had come into these sentients’ lives as Kylo Ren… but, as the crown seats itself firmly on his head, he hides his secret deep within, promising to become so much more than he’d ever been before. 

It’s with honor, devotion, peace and humility that the ‘Jedi Master Ren’ rises…

… Monarch of the Fallen First Order. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you enjoyed this story, please feel free to check out the sequel, "Monarch" - https://archiveofourown.org/works/26444200/chapters/64429519


	33. BONUS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **MONARCH,** the sequel, can be found [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26444200/chapters/64429519)

****

**BONUS CHAPTER**

I couldn’t just leave it at  _ that!  _ I had to give you all a little sumthin’ sumthin’ for sticking it out with me. In order, you’ll find the below. Skip whatever disinterests or displeases you. 

  1. **Fan recognition:** Info dated August 20, 2020 
  2. **Original Character Concepts** : “Behind the scenes”
  3. **The merits of PANTSING:** My “what the hell did I just write?” moments
  4. **About us:** Wanna know more about our Beta Elle and I?
  5. **Sequel Teaser:** You asked for it! Well, technically only 35 of you asked for it… but I want to write it, _SO THERE!_



****

**Fan Recognition!**

This section is specifically to recognize the people who took a chance on me when this was a work-in-progress. This was the first fic in my roster, so it was a leap of faith for those who came along for the ride. To all of you – THANK YOU. 

_ **Special note  _ – _ to those of you who supported me on Facebook, because you comment with your real names, I didn’t want to list you here in respect for your privacy. But, I DO love you and want to be sure you feel that from me!** _

  
  


So many people gave me kudos, and I’m SO grateful, but I want to call out all of those who gave me ‘verbal’ support as I went through this process. I know that trusting an author to complete a fic is a risk – but, when I was crying and wondering, “God, why!??!” – your encouragement kept me going. <3 THANK YOU 

(Most recent commenters didn’t make the alphabetization – sorry!!)

  


  


**Fans who are also writers:**

_ Please consider checking out their work. (If you prefer I not link to your work, please let me know and I will remove the reference) _

[AlwaysEverlark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysEverlark/pseuds/AlwaysEverlark/works), [anaellefire ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaellefire/pseuds/anaellefire/works), [Anne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne/pseuds/Anne/works), [avidvampirehunter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidvampirehunter/pseuds/avidvampirehunter/series), [Bantha_Fodder](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12081354/chapters/27374511), [Benedicthiddleston](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benedicthiddleston/pseuds/Benedicthiddleston/works), [cdknelson](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24431479/chapters/58946173), [CMSaints](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMSaints/pseuds/CMSaints/works), [DyadsAreForever](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21948247/chapters/52379914), [enloeddmedia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enloeddmedia/pseuds/enloeddmedia/works), [GreyForceUser (ReyandKyloforever)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyandKyloforever/pseuds/GreyForceUser/works), [Jodesville](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jodesville/pseuds/Jodesville/works), [KJR011301](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJR011301/pseuds/KJR011301/works), [Lady_of_Haven](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25926232/chapters/63013621), [LastNameWriter85](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastNameWriter85/pseuds/LastNameWriter85/works), [MFA101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MFA101/pseuds/MFA101/works), [MrsMoony86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMoony86/pseuds/MrsMoony86/works)

  
****

**Original Character Concepts!**

****

**“Yama” -** The monk. I knew I wanted to showcase some alien races – especially since the First Order was so… human. I also felt I needed to give the boys something controversial for their first “bad guy”. I needed to teach Finn the idea of a “gray area”, and I needed to reinforce that Kylo is choosing a path that veers away from suicide.   
  
I also wanted a chance to pull other people into Rey’s purgatory Jakku, if I’m honest.   
  
It was a chance to showcase that there was evil on both sides of the war. I’m not sure how many of you caught it – but the soldier that flayed children was on the New Republic side. Evil is everywhere – and it has nothing to do with just the Dark side.  
  
When doing research for bad guys, I came upon this: “Yama is the Hindu god of death who helps souls choose a new track. It is believed that Yama was the first mortal to die. Since he was the first to arrive in the underworld, he became the ruler. Ever since he has judged the dead souls to decide their rewards and punishments. This god plays a huge role in determining a soul’s fate based on his or her records. Therefore, Yama is closely related to the rule of law.”  
  
"Yama" is sanskrit for "moral discipline"

**“The Red Water of Dathomir”** \- I’ll be honest, Dathomir played a WAY bigger role in this fic than I’d intended. It seemed like a ‘bad guy personified’ to me. Since I was already futzing with Sanskrit, I found the phrase, ‘ _ Lohita ApaH’.   
  
Literally: Red Water. Since Rey’s dreams were of water  – this was a great start to Kylo’s darker memories. _

**“Adro and Adroa - The Gods of Death”** \- Another chance to show the duality of the Force – and a chance for cool mega-dyad powers. I loved the male/female oneness and the idea of fading from one gender into the other was just so  _ beautiful…  _ in  _ my _ mind at least!   
  
Writing Finn/Rey PLUS a God that shifted forms was  _ So. Freaking. Hard. _  
  
This was another bad guy I did research for, I came upon this: “Like most African deities, Adro is just one aspect of the supreme god in African mythology. Adro is the god on earth whereas Adroa is the god in the sky, away from the living. Adroa possesses the good side and Adro the bad. Either one of them has half of the body with one of each body part including the eyes, kidneys, legs, ears, etc. Adro is responsible for sickness, death, and possessing women. He also kidnaps the living to feed on them.  
  
Adro is not visible to the men of this earth. For when he does make an appearance, it is in the form of a snake. Occasionally, he has also made appearances as whirlwind. Sometimes, he comes in the form of a half-man who is white, translucent, and tall to those who are about to die. Before the 1930s, people would sacrifice their children to please Adro. However, this tradition was banned in 1930. The people then sacrificed ram to plead for a good fate after death.”

**“Stormtrooper Village Leader”** \- I literally had no idea what to call this guy. I knew I wanted him to retain his call-sign, because I wanted to be clear that these people had their identities taken away. Not everyone can adapt to their new life as easily as Finn.   
  
Elle and I batted around a couple things and joked about “24601” (<\-- Jean Val Jean’s prisoner number from  _ Les Miserables _ ). 

**“Finn’s Romantic Interest”** \- I described her as ‘not a forever love’. I wanted her to be appealing – but, I’m terrible at names. In the end, I chose the Russian word for “Pretty” – Khoroshen’kiy: Хорошенький. 

**“Rà”** \- It seemed like a lot of people loved Rà the way that I did. To me, Rà was a representation of a few sides of Ben: the side that couldn’t control his powers (and faced repercussions for it), the side that was abused by Snoke, the side that just wanted his Daddy to love him, and the side that was still abandoned in the end.   
  
Rà is Yoruban for “Redeemed”. 

**“CL-3337’s Tragic Love”**  
\- Speaking of love - I love our Beta Elle SO MUCH! She’s there for me when I’m crying because a thread of this story hit one of my nerves too hard, or I’m crippled with self-doubt. Because of that, I wrote her name into the story:   
  
_  
\---“I even thought her call sign was beautiful. LL-8182. Elle. My Elle.”---  
_  
  
I’m sorry I killed you as fast as I wrote you, Elle… D:

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**The Merits of PANTSING!**

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I’m in a writer’s group on Discord. Any of you who have read my  _ other _ work should know that it’s allll prompted by that group. (Except ‘You like Pizza?’. That was utterly my fault… I just got roped into writing my own prompt… *shame* If you’re looking for something weirdly hot, funny and utterly ridiculous – check that one out.)  
  
In the writers’ group, we have “Sprints”. It’s basically a challenge to have everyone focus and  _ write as much as you can  _ during a set time frame. Usually we do 20-minute intervals. I always take it  _ way  _ too seriously.   
  
Like, Way. Too. Seriously.   
  
It makes me end up with train-of-thought-writing that… just takes me to weird places. Our moderator, Hana, calls this, “Writing by the seat of your pants”. She abbreviates this as, “Pantsing”.   
  
There is not a single “pantsing” moment I wrote that I didn’t leave in the actual story. Here they are: 

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  1. In the first Stormtrooper Village – Finn plays with his gift-necklace after defeating the Gods of Death; not knowing that the soft fur he was petting obsessively... was pubic hair. 
  2. The nickname, “Trash Man”.
  3. When Kylo gets his blade back, I’d originally just intended for him to, you know… get it back. His follow up conversation with Han and his struggle with the water beast were all PANTSING. I messaged Elle and said something equivalent to, “I just wrote a whale in my story…” Then I paused… and continued, “I just wrote A WHALE in my STORY!” And it wasn't the capitalization of happiness, either. I gave up and went to bed. In the morning, I liked it, so I wrote in a short, “I went fishing” joke, and called it a wrap. 
  4. The Aquarium scene where young Ben Solo is almost abducted as Kylo watches in detached fascination… until Rey saves him. 
  5. Shopping for “Jedi clothes”. :D 
  6. “The King, The Queen, and the Joker” – Honestly I have no idea where this came from. I needed them to make a decision and I had NO IDEA how to get them there. Enter PANTSING. Or, perhaps, Deus ex Machina.
  7. CL braiding Kylo’s hair. 
  8. Sexually charging everyone on the ship when Kylo and Rey were dry-humping. And, subsequently, Kylo laughing his ass off about it. (Originally, it was just meant to be a super-charged Finn – and _Kylo Ren_ was never supposed to laugh about anything.)
  9. Kylo’s involvement with the Fallen First Order. That got inserted in there in a PANTSING session and just… _bloomed._ Originally, I was going to end the story with Ben, Rey and Finn going off into the sunset to recruit Force Sensitives – but I think a lot of fics end that way. I was happy when this idea came along, instead. I thought it might have separated this ending from the crowd a little. (Though I’ve just learned of the tag “Renporer”, so – obviously I’m not the only one on that boat! lol!)
  10. BACON!!
  11. The Trappers. I had NO IDEA what I wanted Maz’s favor to be. In fact, I just had the phrase “<insert Maz’s favor>” in my outline, and I kept kicking _that_ bucket the hell down the road because I didn’t know what to do with it. And, even THEN, I had no idea who I wanted the bad guy(s) to be. While PANTSING, I pinged Elle and said… “I just added a BICYCLE BELL TO MY STORY” ← Again, this is _not_ happy capitals. I had no idea there would be three baddies until I started writing them… and I was also freaking out about the harsh cuts that I was weaving into the story… but 20 minutes was on the clock, so I just kept hammering. I thought that chapter ended up intense and was _potentially_ a good crescendo before the last chapter. I hope that you agree! (I also hope it wasn’t confusing!)



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**About Us**

  
Alpha/Beta Editor: Elle - @ellex66 | theresonatinglight | Elle |  [ https://archiveofourown.org/users/theresonatinglight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theresonatinglight)

I’m Elle, and for the past couple of months, I’ve been honored to call myself the Alpha/Beta of Nix’s amazing story! I stumbled onto Reylo Twitter in May, and I’ve been getting dragged deeper and deeper into the fandom with every passing day. I’ve been reading fanfiction since I was 11 (yes, I know, I know – too young!!), and the quality of works that fans produce never fails to astound me. I actually started writing again in June after an 8 year hiatus; there really is nothing Reylo cannot do.   
  
In the “real world,” I’m a recent college grad, a Mechanical Engineer, a mystery novel enthusiast, a singer, and a _massive nerd._ The Force Awakens was my first Star Wars film, and once I saw that and how much Rey’s story meant to me as an adoptee, I knew I had to see the rest. So I binged all six previous films in one weekend with ill-advised college freshman zeal. I was hooked! As the Sequel Trilogy progressed, however, I started seeing myself more and more in Ben Solo / Kylo Ren. His complexity and duality is something incredibly relatable, and being able to explore all of these fics that imagine him as complexly as he deserves is really something I treasure about the Reylo fandom. <3  
  


  


Author: Me - @Nixcomix | Nix or Nic | Nichol (Ashworth) Goldstein  


  
Long story short – I’m weird. I love to dye my hair different colors and confuse my colleagues when they see me from behind... though my penguin-footed-gait gives me away in the end, I’m sure.

I’ve written and illustrated for comics, but that’s also a bit of an overstatement. I did a few one-offs for Jim Henson’s _ ‘Fraggle Rock’ _ (Archaia) and Cartoon Network’s  _ ‘Uncle Grandpa’ _ (BOOM!). I got in the top 10 of Toykopop’s Rising Stars of Manga and had a one-shot pilot with them before T-pop went belly-up. (RIP, T-pop) 

Everything else… never saw the light of day…

Some of it, I never even got paid for. (Cheap F#&$*@% S.O.B.s)

I believe that people with trauma can still achieve greatness. That is one of the reasons I love Kylo Ren / Ben Solo so much. He was fated to fall – and he deserved a better chance to get up and be the man he was meant to be. 

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**Sequel Teaser**

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His true name is a secret, only spoken by his wife in the most private of circumstances. Very few know that Ben Solo, once Kylo Ren, had survived the battle of Exegol – and the Galaxy is all the better for it.   
  
Jedi Master Ren has redeemed himself to the people he loves most, dedicating his life to doing  _ good _ for the Fallen First Order and all surrounding systems. Bringing peace. Bringing justice.   
  
Bringing  _ Balance.  _  
  
But what happens when his violent past is brought to light? Who are his enemies and who can he trust? Where does his moral code fall now, when the threat is so great?   
  
Should he run? Or should he turn his forces against those who seek his demise?   
  
Though his friends might have… can the  _ Galaxy  _ forgive Kylo Ren?   
  
Or will he need to face his execution, after all? 

  
_Join us in mid-September, 2020 for:_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> After the end of TRoS, I was -desperate- for a different ending. My heart in mourning, I turned to fan-art and fan-fiction for the first time. Some of the authors I've found here are TRUE WRITERS. I would buy their works today, if I could. (*Throws around money she doesn't have*.) 
> 
> Big shout outs to the authors that I've devoured the most from: dustoftheancients, Crysania, amybeegood, and diasterisms (bows down). If anyone wants my recommendations, I'm happy to share! 
> 
> In the meantime, please enjoy and leave any comment you feel would not require me to end my life after reading them~  
> :D


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